Obituaries are crap.

Hey, Stanley.

The latest "The North Texan" arrived at my apartment yesterday.

In it is your NT obituary.

And it sucks.

"He worked at Miller Brewery for more than 30 years ..." it says.

"... and was interested in music," it says.

"He earned his bachelor's degree in biology from North Texas," it says.

And that's all it says.

It's not your official obit. I know, I've seen it. I was at the funeral. But still.

It's crappy that you were amazing and you died and the world knows only that you liked music. Big fat fucking duh. Who doesn't?

And that you graduated from North Texas. No shit. Really? I mean, fuck, your obit is in the damn North Texas magazine. They don't put dead MIT grads in this pub.

I know journalism. It's what I got my North Texas degree in. I know that obits're for public record and their primary purpose is to record the fact that people a) existed b) died and c) may have others in their blood lines. That's about it.

But couldn't they at least mention that you loved the Beatles? Or that music was a fan of you? Such a fan that some famous cowboy singer wanted to take your ashes on the road and spread them across the country?

Or that your nickname was 90 Mile-an-Hour Curry? That you had some crazy purple hot rod thirty years ago that your friends actually tracked down and were going to buy and fix up for your next birthday?

Or that you kicked cancer's ass and laughed at it for years before diabetes finally did you in? That you never complained and you looked healthier than all of us despite the fact that you were hooked up to a chemo bag?

NO! Because obits don't say any of that pertinent stuff. Because they are complete crap. Total and utter crap.

At least all of your loved ones did right by you. They celebrated your life and remembered the long-haired Stanley of yore.

And I guess when it's all said and done, that's what really matters. Right? That and beer. Which I'm sure is what you'd tell me.