I could say a lot of stuff about George Carlin and what he meant to me. However, I didn’t know him personally, wasn’t related to him, I was merely just a fan. I have his stuff on DVD and audio and his three books, and I saw him do his stand up once. I am not someone who does eulogies and therefore I will leave the words of wisdom to George himself, from his 1977 release “On the Road”.
When I die, I don’t want to go through that funeral shit. Hey, when you die, you get more popular than you’ve ever been in your whole life. You get more flowers when you die then you ever got at all. They all arrive at once- too late. People say the nicest things about you. They’ll make shit up if they have to, man. “Oh, yeah. He’s an asshole, but a well-meaning asshole.”
“Poor Bill is dead.”
“Yeah, poor Bill is dead.”
“Poor Tom is gone.”
“Yeah, poor Tom.”
“Poor John died.”
“Yeah, John.”
“What about Ed?”
“No, Ed, that motherfucker’s still alive, man!” “Get him out of here.”
Your approval curve goes way up, man.
You might be at one of those funerals where you’re lying in the coffin, you know, folks looking at you, they do have them. “Open it up, I want to see him.” And you’re lying there and they come by and the first thing they do after blessing themselves if they do that…is subtract their age from yours. Figure at a minimum what they still have to live. They don’t know you’re lying there with no back in your jacket and short pants on. Shit… Embarrassed by the rouge. And they say, “Jeez, don’t he look good?” “He’s dead, man.” “I know, but he never looked that good.” I don’t want to have a funeral like that. I don’t want to be cremated, either. I want to be blown up! BOOM! There he goes! God love him!