The Brad Hole

This past Saturday, we went down to Tucson for a memorial service for the mother of one of my good friends and ex-roommate from college. It was a wake combined with a Catholic mass. I'm not Catholic by any stretch, so I really didn't know what to expect. Before I go any further, I feel it's important to emphasize that I'm in no way trying to make light of the tragedy and circumstances surrounding this funeral. It was a weighty and emotional event for my friend, and the burden on him was pretty plain to see. I should also add that I'd only met his mom a few times, and I don't believe I ever spoke more than a few words to her in total during all those years.

With that out of the way, I'm pretty sure that if there's a Catholic god, I've secured myself a seat in hell. If there's one thing I'm fairly sure of in this world, it's that snickering during a memorial service is generally frowned upon. I knew this before the service, of course, and frankly didn't expect to encounter any circumstances that would cause mirth during the service. The first sign of possible trouble was close to the start of the service.

As the priests walked down the aisle towards the front of the church, the song "Guantanamera" was playing over the speakers. When I think of this song, I think of one thing: the skit on Saturday Night Live where Dana Carvey and Patrick Swayze do a commercial as 2 Latin singers with competing songs - the "Super Feud". It's one of the funniest SNL skits I've ever seen. Each time I hear the chorus to "Guantanamera", I hear in my mind : "He stuffs his trousers/I'm telling you that he stuffs his trousers/With a plastic peee-nis/It fell out in Liiii-ma!" So as the priests are walking up the aisle and this song comes over the speakers, I crack into an immediate grin and it's all I can do to keep from laughing out loud. I bite down as hard as I can on my inner cheek to try and focus my attention. The moment eventually passes and I regain my composure and dignity.

From here, the rest of the service is quite somber until we get closer to the end. The head priest starts the whole bread/wine thing (I'm sure it has a name, but I don't know it - sorry). During this, he must say "Jesus Christ" many times. Well, he's got a bit of an effeminate lisp, so each time he says "Jesus Christ", it sounds exactly like Mr. Slave from South Park. While I wasn't on the verge of laughter, I had a hard time suppressing a smile, and bit my inner lip for good measure.

Finally, there was an older priest who assisted in performing the service. I swear to you his voice sounds exactly like "Coach Z." from the Homestar Runner website. Others in our party thought he sounded more like the "Wuvvv...twue wuvvv" priest from Princess Bride, but I dunno.

All that aside, I believe this was perhaps the most sincere and well-handled memorial I've ever attended. The outpouring of emotion and affection by those who knew her was quite overwhelming. The priests also came clean and admitted that they didn't know her, and thus they didn't try to eulogize on her behalf which I found refreshing.