Use 16: Birthday Boy!

Today is the Dead Brother's 51st birthday.

Together now:

"Happy birthday to you,

"Happy birthday to you,

"Happy birthday Dead Brother....

"Happy Birthday to you!"

We gave him the cake and sang him the song and blew out the candle on his behalf.

We also gave him his wish on our followers' behalf.

Thank you all.

Use 15: Child Distractor

(To my four followers: yes, I know it's been a while, but I've been working 10 hour days, most weekends too, and I do have an infant to take care of. So deal with it. Taking DB on a road trip tomorrow, so expect more frequent posting in the near future.)

Again, a true story: it's about something that happened with Dead Father, but if the positions had been shifted, Dead Brother would have served just as well.

Shortly after my father died, my mother's brother, his wife, their daughter and son-in-law and two grandchildren came to visit us. At the time, my little cousin Jennifer was only 6. I was 21, just graduated from college, and had just moved home.

Jennifer latched onto me like she'd never seen another chick before, but it quickly became crystal clear the true attraction: MY STUFF. You see, I'd acquired a lot of stuffed animals and teddy bear type substances from guys in college, which I had displayed all over my room. Jennifer could not get enough of them.

"Which one is your favorite?" she'd ask.

"Well, I suppose that one," I'd say, pointing to a bear in a tuxedo that an old boyfriend gave me.

"Well, you know, if you gave me *that* one," she said, pointing to a bear on my dresser, "you could put that one up there and look at it all the time."

I told her I could see it just fine where it was, but this did nothing to dissuade her from attempting to cajole me from my belongings.

Finally, I'd had enough, and could only think of one thing to get her off the topic of acquiring my few assets.

"You know....my dad is in a box in the hall closet."

Her eyes got *huge.* "REALLY?!"

"Oh yeah," I said. I led her through the living room, where everyone else was chatting amiably, opened the closet door, pointed, made the international sign for "Shhhh," and closed the door.

The following week, as I got home from work, my mother told me she'd got a call from Jennifer's mother. "Apparently, she got a call from Jennifer's teacher."

"Oh really?"

"Yes," my mother replied. "It seems Jennifer was telling everyone that Aunt Jean had Uncle Bob in a box in her closet."

Conclusion: While it may have caused my cousin some parental difficulty, and Jennifer some adjustment problems, my Dead Father did in fact distract my six year old cousin.

Use 14: Date Intimidator

I didn't date in high school, mostly because I was a hugely fat nerd girl and my parents only bought me clothes that would assure them no boy would ever talk to me (for example: mid-calf length wool plaid skirt, green wool sweater, green wool knee socks, penny loafers, and white oxford shirt underneath *WITH A CLIP ON TIE AND A BERET* when I was a JUNIOR IN HIGH SCHOOL. I am currently in therapy). I dated (quite a bit) in college, but I was in school in a different state than my parents lived in. And my father died six weeks after I graduated from college. I say this only to explain that my father never got the chance to greet a boy at the door with a shotgun, the way that he always said he wanted to. It wasn't until after he died that my Dead Father got a chance to scare the hell out of potential suitors.

What follows is a true story.

I was 21 and had gone out with this guy a few times, but I wasn't really feeling it. I wasn't interested in continuing to see this guy, but didn't know how to tell him as much. You see, at this point in my dating career, I had only been broken up *with*, and didn't have experience in doing the actual breaking up myself. And although I've now been a lawyer for twelve years, back then, I really, REALLY hated the idea of confrontation. (Even now I'm only a fan when I'm getting paid to confront). I dreaded having to have the "It's not you, it's me" conversation that clearly always really means "It's not me, it's you."

So I end up on another date with said guy, which was as almost painfully boring as the previous two. Finally the evening came to an end and he drove me home. And as Date Guy walks me to the door of the apartment my Dead Mother and I shared at the time, I see my Dead Mother's Thunderbird parked by the sidewalk.

And I remember that Dead Father is in the trunk.

*Why* my DM had my DF's ashes in the trunk of the car isn't really important. What is important is that I remembered DF was in the trunk as guy and I walked by DM's car. So I knocked on the trunk as we passed and said, "Hi Dad, I'm home."

Date Guy kinda stumbled, and after an awkward (for him, anyway) pause, asked, "Um....huh?"

"Oh, my Dad's in the trunk. He worries when I'm out so I wanted to let him know I got home okay."

When we get to my apartment I invite him in and introduce him to DM. "I said hi to Dad as we came in," I tell her.

All my DM needed was the opening line, and she was off. "Oh, that's good. He worries so." Responding to the blank-slowly-turning-to-terrified stare on Date Guy's face, DM proceeded to riff. "Yes, your father *loves* that Thunderbird. He was feeling kind of cabin feverish, so we went for a ride....."

She proceeded to construct an elaborate tale of her adventures with the box of her dead husband, until finally I decided the purpose had been served and ended Date Guy's misery, walking him to the door and saying goodnight.

He never called me again.

About two years later, I found myself in an elevator with Date Guy. Although we were the only two in the elevator, and even though we *clearly* recognized one another, he pointedly avoided eye contact and I suspect got off a floor earlier than he actually needed to.

I've had LOTS of experience breaking up with guys since then, as two of my four ex-fiances (I actually married two of them) and several ex-boyfriends will attest. I am married now, and since DB has been living with my husband, son and me throughout, any capacity he might have had to scare my husband off has long since faded. Nevertheless, should I find myself again in the dating pool, given the efficacy of Dead Father in scaring off Date Guy, I'm certain that DB would be useful in this capacity.

In fact, for a small rental charge (and security deposit), I'd happily rent him out to others in need. To make reservations, just email me at mydeadbrother@gmail.com.

Use 13: Movie Star

Really, as with most things, Monty Python explains this best (most applicable portions in bold for your convenient reference):




Interviewer: (Michael Palin) An excerpt from Carl French's latest film. Carl, we're all a little mystified by your claim that your new film stars Marilyn Monroe.

Carl French: (Graham Chapman) It does, yes.

Interviewer: Who died over ten years ago?

Carl French: Uh, that's correct.

Interviewer: Are you lying?

Carl French: No, no, it's just that she'e very much in the public eye at the moment.

Interviewer: Does she have a big part?

Carl French: She is the star of the film.

Interviewer: And dead.

Carl French: Well, we dug her up and gave her a screen test, a mere formality in her case, and...

Interviewer: Can she still act?

Carl French: Well... well, she-she's still has this-this enormous, ah-ah, kinda indefinable, uh... no.

Interviewer: Was decomposition a problem?

Carl French: We did have to put her in the fridge between takes.

Interviewer: Ah, what sorts of things does she do in the film?

Carl French: Well, we had her lying on beds, lying on floors, falling out of cupboards, scaring the children...

Interviewer: But surely Miss Monroe was cremated?

Carl French: Well, we had to use a stand-in for some of the more visible shots.

Interviewer: Ah! Uh, another actress.

Carl French: Dead actress. But Monroe was in shot the whole time.

Interviewer: How?

Carl French: Oh, in the ash tray, in the fire grate and vacuum cleaner...

Interviewer: So Marilyn does not appear in the film?

Carl French: Not as such.

Interviewer: Mr. French, you're one of the film world's most arrogant queens. I mean not just
homosexual or gay or anything, I mean you are a raving queen.

Carl French: Well, yes.

Interviewer: I mean, a real screamer, a real "Whoops! Get out! Don't mind me dear!" limp-wristed caricature.

Carl French: Is that not in order?

Interviewer: No, no, that's fine. And I understand that you married the beautiful black heiress Hueyna Tanoy partly for the publicity but mostly to cover up the fact that you prefer going out
with little boys.

Carl French: Look, really!

Interviewer: Carl, you're an effeminate little poof, a mincing gay-bar loiterer, a winnet-covered walking perfume shop and an evil perverter of innocent little boys!

Carl French: What!? Really! Is this part of the interview?

Interviewer: No, no, I just wanted a few contacts.

Carl French: Well-well, shouldn't we be talking about the film?

Interviewer: We've been off the air for ages. Now, where'd you find them?

Carl French: Look, I think we are still on the air.

Interviewer: Oh, sod the fucking air! I just still get locked up with that sort of thing.

Carl French: What about the film?

Interviewer: Just a few addresses, please...

Carl French: Look, we got James Dean in it, in a box!

Interviewer: I-I can turn the microphone off if you...

Carl French: And bits of Jayne Mansfield...