How To Emcee a Funeral Without Losing It

Published by Rick on Tagged Uncategorized

Tuesday, it was cold and dreary in London for about the 153rd day in a row, basically a perfect day to have a funeral. As I’d mentioned on FB the day before Eileen’s funeral, it was a challenge to determine where and to what extent you’d want to put funny into what is intended to be such a solemn occasion. I was the emcee and Eileen’s lover, and given who I am, and what we were as a couple, there was just no way I was going to keep it totally serious the whole 40 minutes of the service.

In my opening, I told the crowd of about 80 the story of how we called it off after two dates that went nowhere. Then about a month later, and on a night where she’d had a few glasses of wine, she sent me an angry e-mail “laced with expletives” as I put it to the audience, though much as I wanted to, I couldn’t give exact quotes. The people who knew her best laughed anyway, as they all had a vision of just how freely she could toss the language around. (I can say here that the e-mail closed with “Eileen [Do you remember who the fuck I am?] Cadman.”) Because I was entertained and intrigued by that e-mail, we met up again, followed by 28 wonderful months together. No one in the crowd, most of whom had known her better than 30 years, was at all surprised by that story.

Next came reminiscences from her brother Rob, who is also a vicar, a strange career choice in a family where atheism ran several generations. Despite his many years of public speaking, he almost lost it toward the end of his speech, and that happened with the next two speakers as well, meaning I’d return to the podium on the verge of breaking down myself. But I held it together, mostly because we were SO on the clock at this funeral that things HAD to keep moving.

There was a reading of Eileen’s favorite poem, and an a capella rendition of a Cole Porter song, (“All Of You”) sung beautifully by the daughter of one of Eileen’s closest friends. Before the next musical interlude, Rob came up to deliver a blessing, and though he knew there were few Christians in the room, thus few that would actually bow their heads, I decided to do so this time around.

I didn’t keep my head down the whole time, and it’s a good thing I didn’t, for my improvisational ability was about to be tested. As I raised my head, I saw the sound man, who only had one fucking cue for the whole service, and it was coming up next, go out a side door, where we never saw him again. Now my sorrow was turning to anger as Rob finished his prayer, and I realized the guy wasn’t coming back. What a Dick, I thought. But it’s a funeral, but he’s a dick, and those thoughts went back and forth as I was stalling for time to see if someone else from the funeral staffers was going to help.

Now I know this was a taxing job, putting a CD in a player and punching the play button. Yeah, I’d demand overtime. This was crucial to me, for it was a pop music piece that I thought was relevant to our relationship, even though it wasn’t what you’d call “Our Song.” Still it was the part I was looking forward to most, sharing this beautiful tune which spoke volumes about her and her departure. I bought some time by telling about her total lack of interest in pop culture, but how a couple months ago, I satisfied a curiosity by playing her “Gangnam Style,” after which she said “OK, I can cross THAT off my bucket list.” By then, someone read the manual on how to play a CD, and the fantastic tune entitled “Just One Smile,” written by Randy Newman, sung by Gene Pitney, got the audience (and myself!) universally teary-eyed.

By the time Gene was done, so was I, but hey, made ‘em laugh, made ‘em cry. I done my job. We only had time for one final benediction and then had to file out, as there’d be another funeral starting in the same hall in 15 minutes. I’m still mad at the funeral staff, and will be demanding an explanation when I go back there to pick up Eileen’s ashes. Despite their efforts to fuck us up, the service was nearly flawless, and touching as well. Eileen got a lovely send-off as we then all moved to her flat for a wake, and that was an accomplishment of its own to fit about 60 people in a one-bedroom flat. She certainly was loved by many, and no technical screw-ups were going to get in the way of that!

March 28th, 2013

About Rick Right

• Stand up comedian
• Musician
• Vinyl DJ
• Voice over artist
• Musicologist
• Writer