Doin it your way. In Forest Lawn Cemetery.

This is the real reason to visit Forest Lawn Memorial: Jan Siegel’s grave marker. Forget all the celebrities tucked in there. Jan’s is my favorite. No “Loving Mother” or “Blessed Soul” for her. Instead, a more elegant phrasing of “b**** had balls.”

I looked her up and found that she established a successful race horse stable with her husband and daughter. Four-legged winners included Hedonist, I Ain’t Bluffing, I Believe In You. (Which will be the name of my first solo album.) Jan wrapped things up here, after a long battle with the big C. I hope that the afterlife is all that she had wanted it to be.

There’s a strangeness to walking around such vast grounds, on a bright and breezy, warm afternoon. Rolling hills, dotted with overpriced flower arrangements and people spending time with the loved ones they’ve lost. Giant willowy trees swaying gently. It’s almost like you can feel the quiet calm of eternity. Of “rest”. Or the finality of death. I felt really aware of my ability to move. And the wind in my hair. And my thoughts…

These white statues appear throughout the cemetery. Usually depicting some thoughtful moment. Something comforting. Maybe.

I think to myself that I would like to have one of these statues mark my future grave on these hills. I want it to be a superhumanly tall, strapping figure (Say… Jesus as Gerard Butler in the movie 300), with his arms outstretched and a life sized replica of me, draped across his arms, in the moment before we make contact on a hi-five. I want it to have the feeling of “Epic hi-five-ed-ness” and a little “So that happened”.

And also, I want people to look upon it and think… “Wow.  Jesus was pretty hot.  She did it her way.”

Talk to me, Baby.

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