Death Hag, Anyone?

I've always been accused of being a little out there. A year or so ago, my high school English teacher showed up at our book club meeting to give us a report on a book called Spilling Clarence. You'll have to google if you want to know the author because I don't have the energy.

So, while she's describing the author, she says, "She's a lot like our girl here. She doesn't exactly view the world like the rest of us do. She sees things a bit differently than most of us."

At first, I thought wow, maybe that's not a good a thing. But I've since realized, the one defining difference between myself and others is that I'm more willing to articulate the thoughts I do have. While some might poo-poo and hush concepts and ideas that aren't the norm, I do think most people actually have bizarre, unconventional thoughts. They just squelch them because of that "what will the neighbors think?" mentality. Any more, I don't give a rat's ass, which is one merit of growing older.

That being said, I've always had a fascination with the paranormal and death. When I was a little girl, I flipped through my grandma's photo albums, complete with photos of those who went before me lying in a casket. Tucked right in there with photographs from birthday parties and weddings, there was great-grandpa deader than a door nail. (My grandma actually carries photos in her purse of my grandpa lying in his casket. Is it strange? To most, probably, but I'm essentially immuned to her hobby of death photography.)

I've tromped through cemeteries most of my life. Not because I think a ghost is going to pop up and say hello. I like them because of the history. I love looking at old gravestones. I read the dates, calculate in my head, and wonder why and how the person lived so long or died so young. The only day I missed of high school, a few friends and I used Senior Skip Day to visit the grave of James Dean in Fairmount, IN.

I love a good cemetery. Personally, though, I don't want to be buried. I'd take a masoleum if truly given a choice, but even then I have a problem with my body lying around decaying. I don't much see the point of it. Cremation would be an option, however. If someone feels that I need to be planted and continue taking up space on this earth, I'd prefer that. I suppose it doesn't much matter since I'll be dead, anyway.

I managed to stumble upon http://findadeath.com/ I started clicking on various names, and boy howdy, was I hooked. Ever wonder when, where, and how someone died? Interested in their autopsy report or last will and testament? How about how they spent their last days upon earth?

It's worth checking out. This guy Scott has a twisted sense of humor, and a good writing style to match it. But, I will recommend, if you're a bit on the pansy-squeamish side, heed his warnings before clicking on photos of bodies at crime scenes. If you're freaked by seeing photos of the dead in their coffin, don't click when you're warned that something might be oogy.

I'm almost reluctant to admit that I've spent a week now on the site, and I think I've read all there is to read. I was a bit disturbed by the story of G.G. Allin. When it says it's kinda gross in all his glory, it is. But did that stop me? Nope, I couldn't wait to click.

I don't know that my life has been enriched knowing the last moments of Bill Bixby or Tiny Tim, but then again, I'm not quite right.