Highway To Wazzit?

Highway To Heaven starred Michael Landon as an angel on probation, sent to Earth and given assignments by The Boss to help troubled souls.

Shouts From The Abyss stars yours truly as a self-proclaimed guru of negativity, given (purloined) a blog which serves as a metaphorical highway where daily poop bullshit is dispensed to The Reader.

The parallels are uncanny.

Hell, I’m just like Johnny Appleseed only slightly different. And, like Mr. Appleseed, I’ve got places to go and things to do. For that I will, occasionally, use a highway.

Highway to Hell was a rockin’ little ditty by AC/DC.

One thing is for sure: That’s a lot of highways! And the other day I was on one of them.

Verily I say unto you, the highways shall be covered with billboards and they shall be legion but do not be tempted by the advertising messages contained therein lest thou’st risk thy immortal soul for they are abomination.

–The Book of Guru, Transportation Chapter

It’s not the destination, it’s the journey. A serendipitous journey dappled with billboards containing messages like “Eat at Joe’s” and “Billboard Space Available.” Hell, who wouldn’t appreciate a journey like that? God forbid that even during the act of driving we might temporarily forget that the world is 24/7 after our wallets.

It Was Almost Like A Song

I’m not going to lie to you. This image has nothing to do with this post except it will one day be featured at a funeral home in place of my face for my Wake Me Up Before You Go Go. I will remain anonymous to the bitter end.

Nothing too heavy today…

And, regarding my beloved chemical suit, I leave that to … what? Are you kidding me? None of you get that. I’m taking it with me. Bury me in it!
–The Last Will and Testament of Tom B. Taker, Chapter 1, Section A, Article 1

As most of you know, I have been busy most of the last few decades planning my wake. A wise man in a Stephen King movie once said, “Get busy living or get busy dying” and I took to that advice to heart like a leading a guru to tequila and telling him not to drink.

Of course this planning primarily took the form of picking out songs that participants (guests? attendees? celebrants? wakers? invitees? z-list celebs?) would, at least once, get to enjoy my eclectic taste in music.

I thought it was a pretty good plan. Besides, nothing pleases me more than the thought of people coming together to remember my life and having to listen to some random songs while they are left to ponder, “What the hell is this crap supposed to convey to us about Tom?” Ha ha ha! Suffer!

Then, this week, in the name of research, I attended the memorial service for a gentleman I knew and I thought to myself, “See? This is what happens when you fail to plan and allow your loved ones to pick the music on your behalf.”

Actually, I didn’t really know the man that well. He was the father of one friend and the husband of another. After attending the service I have to say I regret not knowing him better. He was a great guy, the kind who would give away the shirt off his back, always with a warm smile at the ready, and the sort who could cheer people up even when the chips were down.

I also knew him from the liquor store where he seemed friendly enough as he handed me bottle after bottle for several years before he got sick. See? We just went full circle. From tequila to the liquor store and back again. That’s what this guru calls the circle of life.

This post will document the set list that was used to send this soul on its way back home.

Misguiding In Cars With Boys

Guru Death Theory states:

Transportation increases the odds of accidental fatalities. However, remaining stationary does not reduce the odds to zero.
–Tom B. Taker

In other words, getting from Point A to Point B can be inherently dangerous. Any method of transportation that moves your body through the physical universe increases the chances you’ll take it in the shorts. The moment you begin to move your odds of dying increase. This can take many forms. It may be a flight from Los Angeles to New York City. It might be your morning commute to work in your car. Or it could be as short of a journey as stepping into the bathtub. Or even just getting up out of your chair.

Cheery, eh?

So you might think to yourself, “I’m not moving. I’m going to sit right here and remain safe.”

A nice thought. Except that death may still find you.

For example, you could be on the bed in your very own home when a sinkhole suddenly opens up and you’re just gone. Or, ripped from the headlines just yesterday, you could be standing in your home when the ceiling violently gives way from the impact of a jet aircraft. There are no reports of deaths on the ground in this latest incident, but a young boy did get nicked on his forehead. Come to think of it, the last time I wrote about this theory, I used the example of a jet aircraft engine landing on a house. As always I hate being right.

Being alive can be dangerous.

Maybe it would be a good idea to go for a walk, clear my head and think things over. (Hint: It’s not.)

Fine Wine, Cheese of a Certain Age and Wikipedia Jollies

Go ahead. Guess what this post is about. I dare you.

Wake Me Up Before I Go-Go

Death At A Funeral

This post thoughtfully combines two exciting topics into one. Think of it like a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup full o’ love. I hate peanut butter. Why ruin it with chocolate? But I digress.

Bucket List: Walk out on a funeral.—
Tom B. Taker (@shoutabyss) February 25, 2013

I’ve always wanted to plan my own wake. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet. And this weekend I walked out on a funeral. Is there a way I can merge these ideas in a single blogging experience?

Let’s try!

Trampling is supposed to be fun

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving Eve. Just enough time to get in one more shot of negativity before the day the shit steps off and I pause my normal routing to give thanks.

Can do!

Tomorrow brings my annual benediction of hope and light. In guru parlance it’s known as the blind spot. But I’ll be back to form by Friday in time for hottest shopping day of the year.

May you shop until you drop.

And now, sing with me, won’t you?

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…

Cogitation Flagellation: Papa John’s Pizza

Image Credit – OpenClipArt member: rejon