The Price of Passion

To be passionate is to be alive. To have the fires of passion burn within your soul is to live life to it's fullest. We are never more alive than when writing, speaking or acting upon something in which we embrace with passion. Whether it be in the form of love or hate, passion is the pinnacle of human emotions.
The downside to passion is depression. More often than not, those who experience great hights of passion also experience great depths of depression. Such was the life of Hunter S. Thompson . Thompson, journalist, gun-collector, enemy of the state -- committed suicide on Sunday at the age of 67.
I've often thought, much like Bill Maher, "Suicide is man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me - I quit." ". Which is probably fairly close to what Hunter was thinking as he took that final step into infamy.
Maybe his is the funeral for which "I" have nothing to wear. One can only hope. Not that I don't sympathize with Mr Thompsons family. But if he was determined to go, and it was inevitable that someone was going, then better that it be someone who clearly wanted to go.
Not that I'll be attending Mr Thompson's funeral. You see, I don't do funerals. Now you might be thinking "then why was she worried about having nothing to wear to a funeral". Well, because even though I don't do funerals, there as some that simply cannot be avoided. Primarily one's own. Then there's one's spouse, or a close relative. To be prepared is merely wise and prudent.
Here in the south funerals are social events. I have friends that will scour the obituaries (much like Stephanie Plum's granny) searching for the best wakes and funerals to attend. Being related to or having known the deceased is not mandatory. In fact there are many similarities between the burg where Ms Plum resides, and the little podunt town in which I live.
I might be more inclined to attend funerals if they were more like the funerals they have in New Orleans. Now, those are people who know how to do a funeral . Parties, parades, celebrations. When folks in Nawlins bury their dead they do it in style ! That's the way I want my funeral. None of that weeping and wailing. Have a party, celebrate. Celebrate that your still alive and that I've moved on to the next level (whether that level be up or down is irrelavant).
Alas, I still have nothing to wear. Yesterday's shopping was for naught. I had no idea it was so difficult to find something cool, (weather wise,) comfortable, stylish, and black. That is if you don't want that basic little black dress. Which I do NOT. I'm thinking a trip to the big city (Birmingham) may be necessary. Never let it be said, I didn't give it my best when shopping for appropriate social attire.