Radio Hell - Ninth Level

[Lisa]

You're in my heart. 

[Michael797]

We'll no doubt be back in the middle of the night with more of the meaningless bullshit you've come to expect from RH, including a recap of yesterday's big celebration. For now, here's just a few bits of bullshit to get things going again:

 

1. Shopping list: Kleenex

 

2. Some quick math: I was 40 years old when Bud came along. He was around for 19 1/2 years. I'm now the ripe old age of 60 (fortunately, widda doesn't have an age limit). I figure it will only be a few more years until I can maybe see Bud (and Marianne) again, so the numbers are sort of working in my favor.

 

3. Having said that....

 

There better be some seriously BIG-ASS REWARD waiting when my time finally comes. If there's really nothing but dirt waiting in the end, I'm going to be REALLY REALLY PISSED.

 

4. Maybe Bud got off easy. With madmen who place no value whatsoever on human life running the show, it probably won't be long until we ALL get to see Bud.

 

5. Today's agenda includes checking in on Bud's mom. I know something that she doesn't yet realize - they don't come back. Ever. She'll learn way too soon.

 

Out for now. Go hug a kid.

[Jen]

I'm going to Wegmans. I'll grab you a couple boxes of Kleenex. (I'm looking for any tangible stupid thing I can do. Sue me.)

[adp]

Michael, I didn't want to be there yesterday, none of us did, you most of all, but I was glad I could be and to be able to give you a hug. I'm sorry I never had the chance to get to know your son; but it was good to see the many beautiful pictures of him and to hear you loving, sweet, eulogy. It was clear he was a very fine young man. Much love and more hugs.

[MissingSquish]

Sending much love to you Michael. I have no other words. We are here for you.

[Wheelerswife]

More hugs from afar...somehow, they seem to temporarily lift the angst a bit.

 

And as far as Kleenex goes...I much prefer Puffs Plus.

 

Maureen

[Michael797]

(Inspired by hanging with Jenni today):

 

Deep booming voice: I am DEATH!

 

Switching to James Woods-type voice: Hi, how ya doin'? Here, take one of my cards, why don't ya?

 

The card is black (of course) with a cheesy-looking skull and crossbones logo. Embossed in red are the lines:

 

Death P. Schaeffer

Bringer of Doom, Destroyer of Worlds.

Weddings, Bar Mitzvahs, Funerals

Phone:(800) 666-2017

Email:death47539@gmail.com

Twitter:@therealdeath #jesuswept #suckstobeyou

Like us on Facebook!

 

On the back is the single word "Boo."

[Lisa]

Keep posting when you can. Rest and drink that water. Love you. (Hugs)

[Michael797]

Dear Recent Posters (aka long-time listeners): Congratulations, you've all been promoted to MIDDLE MANAGEMENT! Radio Hell salutes you and wishes you good luck with that. We are confident you will move forward with your positions in the usual, most logical way - by bulk-emailing your resumes to every other goddamn place you can think of.

 

Ok, as promised, here's the recap of yesterday's BIG EVENT. Since this is such a yuge deal, we've chosen to present the highlights to you completely in MIME! We're doing this because:

 

A) Being quite aware that radio is a SOUND-BASED MEDIUM, it seems kind of appropriate for Hell.

B) Mostly we're just bored as fuck with monologues.

 

Here we go - listen up!

 

(Mime enters, indicates a big, majestic room, makes awestruck reaction faces)

(Change to mime dancing and gesturing like a minstrel show singer, mouthing lyrics with a huge grin, rolling eyes and clapping hands joyously)

(Change to mime dropping to his knees and bowing rapidly and deeply over and over)

(Change to mime standing perfectly still, frown on face. Begins thumping his chest and pounding his fist into the other hand. Gestures as if lighting bolts are shooting from his fingers)

(Change to mime suddenly becoming humble, hunching over and mumbling silently)

(Change to mime standing more upright, mouthing words with an apocalyptic look on his face)

(Change back to mime dancing like a minstrel, but more enthusiastically and happily. Big finish as he drops to one knee and spreads his arms wide, grinning broadly, gesturing that we can all applaud now)

 

Couldn't you just feel the excitement? Bet you wish you'd brought a beach ball or something.

 

There you have it, now get the fuck out!

 

But special thanks and love to those who were there. Let's not do this again real soon.

 

[Michael797]

WARNING: The following transmission is REALLY REALLY MORBID. Please don't read any further if you don't have the stomach for creepy dialogue. Go. Now.

 

Are all the normal people gone? Are we absolutely sure??

 

For those still here, you know what it's like after the service; everyone vanishes as if you never existed. In that deafening silence, all sorts of goofy thoughts come to mind. It has occurred to me that I've never issued any wishes regarding how I'd like my big day to play out, so I'm going to ask those of you who have insisted on staying on the bus to bear witness to the following directive in the event of my annoyingly overdue demise. It's not written in stone (tomb or otherwise), so feel free to modify as you think is appropriate. I trust you.

 

AFTER I’M GONE – DIRECTIVE OF MICHAEL797

I wish the following to be carried out regarding any services that may take place in the event of my death.

 

1. There is to be no organized religion of any kind mentioned or implied during the service. Mention of or reference to a Christian god is specifically prohibited. No hymns may be played. Any mention or promotion of the service in an obituary or other public media must state clearly that the service will be non-religious so as to inform/warn possible attendees. Talk of a spiritual/metaphysical nature is fine. Jesus may be mentioned, but not dwelt on.

 

2. Nothing about the service or the contents of speakers therein should contain information of a financially profitable nature. This directive includes all conditions set forth in Directive 1.

 

3. Whatever’s left of my body can be discarded as anyone sees fit; either a McDonald’s dumpster or Trump's doorstep seem especially appropriate. Please make sure I’m actually dead first before disposal.

 

4. I’m not leaving much in the way of audiovisual records, so you’ll have to wing it. Pictures of Bud are plentiful, so maybe someone can find some on my laptop or something to use as a substitute. I'd be happy if he was remembered as well.

 

5. Below is a suggested agenda of events:

 

a. Song: “Heavenly Bank Account” – Frank Zappa

b. Introductory remarks as appropriate about the guy you’re sending off.

c. Community joke-telling: I know I didn’t make it easy, since I was spewing out stuff for over sixty years and nearly all of it’s evaporated into space/time. But if you remember anything funny I ever said, please offer it up. I’ll try to whip up some sort of official statement beforehand, but we all know how that goes.

d. A lively discussion of where attendees think I wound up is encouraged. Odds are that I couldn’t possibly be in a worse place.

e. Closing Songs: “This Is Not an Exit” – American Psycho; “For Good” – Wicked.

f. Ingestion of any foodstuffs/beverages/trendy chemicals would make a fitting finale. I promise not to bitch about what you’re consuming.

g. Go forth and try not to be as big a fuckup as I was. I’m happy to act as a bad example as long as you learned something from it.

 

You're stuck with it now. How many times did I tell you to get out? You only have yourself to blame, you know.

[Guest TooSoon]

For what it's worth, Andy and I had a lively discussion about funereal playlists on the way home (inspired by the music at the service, which was perfect, hymns (if you can call them that - hope I can say that) notwithstanding during which Andy informed me that he might leave a playlist or two for me in the "event of."  This made me inquire: "Don't you trust me to make one for you myself?"  To which he replied, firmly and without missing a beat, "No." 

 

But I have a question.  Am I allowed to do some casual low-level rapturing/waving of lighter during whatever songs you do choose?  Deeply secular low-level rapturing, of course.  Don't even answer because I'm going to do it anyway.....

 

xoxox

[Michael797]

My dearest TS,

 

As long as the fire codes allow it, you may wave whatever you wish. Frankly, "For Good" is kind of made for that anyway. I admit I hope I get to see you waving for the Zappa song.

 

Above all, you don't want to leave any of this crap in the hands of total strangers, do you?

 

Approved!

[Jen]

What about karaoke? I've got a few selections in mind...

[Michael797]

If one of the songs is "God, I Hate Shakespeare," approved.

[Jen]

You're a bloody mind reader. Done.

[Guest TooSoon]

What about karaoke? I've got a few selections in mind...

 

I'm in!  But Michael, only if we do that BEFORE you check out as me singing "Brandi Your'e a Fine Girl" or/and (if you're lucky) "Don't Rock the Boat Baby" is a sight to behold.....Listen, I realize these songs don't suit the moment but listening to me sing them is pretty Hellish.  I, too, approve of "God, I Hate Shakespeare," believe it or not.

[Michael797]

We're back. So glad we're all having so much FUN planning my demise. 

 

Loyal listeners to the previous incarnations of RH know that this is right about the time when the station tends to have a HEAP BIG GRADE A HISSY FIT. Why? Because we notice that about a hundred pairs of eyeballs are tuning in every day now - and our marketing team sincerely doubts that it's the same five people twenty times a day. That means there are OTHER PEOPLE LISTENING. And that means it's time to OPEN UP THE PHONE LINES and listen to YOU for a change.

 

We know what you're thinking; "There are no words - that's my story and I'm sticking to it." Fair enough, we'll GIVE you some. Here's a poll you can take to let us know how you think we're doing here at dear ol' RH. Just send your responses in a private message (PM) to the station manager and we'll tally the votes. All submissions will be kept confidential. Here comes the poll question:

 

SO... UM... LIKE... REALLY?

A. Free Bird!

B. You're, like, effed up, 'ight?

C. I was looking for the poetry thread.

D. Must be Hell, who listens to radio?

E. You speak for those of us who don't have voices - and who are too fucked up on Ativan to type.

F. Can I come to the funeral so I can make sure you're DEAD?

G. Other (please specify):

 

Life is short, so vote today! Hasty lumbago from your fiends at Radio Hell.

[quovadis]

(G)

Before you depart, could you fill out an absentee ballot or 2 or 99?

We need more flaming liberal votes in these parts.

Thanks

 

 

[Jen]

Well, here's the deal. I keep thinking of things to say, I start to type, then hit delete. It SUCKS. I'm an expert at grieving, but when it comes to supporting a loved one... I'm a novice. I know how to talk to women who've lost babies. I've lost a baby. But it was a clump of tissue, not a real person (NOT TO START AN ARGUMENT WITH ANYONE). It was sad, it hurt, it took time to get over. It's nothing-- NOTHING-- compared to this nightmare.

 

So it's really, really hard to find anything to say that's not a) painfully repetitive, b) clichéd and deserving of being throat-punched, or c) downright offensive. Doesn't leave too many options, frankly. I'm open to suggestions. Hissy fits are completely welcome, but at this point I don't have much more than "there, there," unless you want a full-blown thread-hijacking rant. Which this is quickly becoming, so I'll stop now.

 

Also, I hate Free Bird. Not big on poetry these days, either. I love you, though.

 

[MeAndTheKids]

Since your music options (with or without karaoke) are under control I'll step in to handle the food- if you've never made a shiva call (a shiva is the jewish version of a wake) the most noticeable difference is the food.

 

Its traditional to bring something sweet and round (continuation of life, circle of life, that sort of thing) if you hadnt already sent a food platter.  So were talking an average of one cake coming in with every two or three people.

 

By tradition the food cant leave the house  unless its going to another house in mourning (except for charitable donation )  so after a week the house looks like the sorcerers apprentice went beserk at a bakery.

So- any favorite you'd limlike e to see featured? (Stick to soft favorites- me and the rest of the guests would like to be very old with failing teeth when this shindig goes down)

[Michael797]

Now we're rolling! Let's do some VIEWER MAIL.

 

(G)

Before you depart, could you fill out an absentee ballot or 2 or 99?

We need more flaming liberal votes in these parts.

Thanks

 

Bud's best friend's parents are both Russian Muslim doctors. I met them on Saturday; with tears rolling down their faces, they told me how Bud used to play with their autistic son. Nobody blew up the church on Saturday; maybe you can't fit a bomb in a tailored suit or something.

 

I'll do you one better, QV. I'll change my voting status to "Van full of illegal Muslim transgender Freedom Caucus supporters who don't have health care." That should keep 'em guessing, eh?

[sojourner]

Michael797, I am so, so sorry for your new loss! Beyond mind-boggling. :'(

[Michael797]

By tradition the food cant leave the house  unless its going to another house in mourning (except for charitable donation )  so after a week the house looks like the sorcerers apprentice went beserk at a bakery.

So- any favorite you'd limlike e to see featured? (Stick to soft favorites- me and the rest of the guests would like to be very old with failing teeth when this shindig goes down)

 

Approved on many levels. A field trip sorta sounds nice, weather permitting. I'll trust you with texture choices as I'll be through with chewing.

 

Better yet, maybe we can make it a costume party. If you show up dressed as a Hasidic Rebbe, I'll push to get you a seat next to the Big G when it's your turn.

[Michael797]

Michael797, I am so, so sorry for your new loss! Beyond mind-boggling. :'(

 

Mind-boggling indeed. As you can see, I'm now a babbling idiot. I feel your pain and can tell that you feel mine. Truly sorry about that.

[Michael797]

So it's really, really hard to find anything to say that's not a) painfully repetitive, b) clichéd and deserving of being throat-punched, or c) downright offensive. Doesn't leave too many options, frankly. 

 

You already know where I'm going to go next, don't you?

 

Today's sermon is about stupidity. In the aftermath of Bud's passing, all sorts of issues that everybody's been dragging around for so long are being resolved. I've resolved decades-old crap with my family. People that have rained shit on me for my entire life are being stood up to. Bud's mom has told me that everything she thought she knew seems wrong now (not that it was), and she's reinventing herself. All this great and powerful stuff is being wiped away, presumably for once and for all. Sounds good, right?

 

Nope, it's incredibly fucking stupid. We didn't all become demigods all of a sudden; we didn't inherit magical powers from a spider bite. We're still just human - which means we could've fixed all of this crap all along. It didn't take a tragedy of biblical proportions to make our lives better; we could've just clicked our heels together and dealt with stuff.

 

I propose a new gospel - where everyone learns to go forth and fix their shit before they have to. It could change the course of destinies and save you boatloads of regret if something really mind-boggling happens.

 

Just throwing it out there.