I just learned how to do a screen grab off my iPhone so I could share this recent text from my all-too-sassy 14 year old.
Abby asks where I'd like to be cremated. An unusual question for any child to pose to a parent but I like to think we are unusually frank and open around the Siegel household and that this type of curiosity is sign of a healthy father daughter relationship.
Of course the rest of the conversation was consumed with the distribution of wealth in the case of my premature departure. Abby has her eyes on the flat-screen TV, the 27 inch iMac and my 2007 Lexus with the failing timing belt, which I assured her would be fixed as soon as possible.
You may look down your nose at this covetous behavior but rest assured that in accordance with the terms of my will none of these assets will be transferred to her until she attains her four year college degree and gets a steady job. And just for good measure I threw in an additional amendment requiring one year service in the Peace Corps.
Tikkun Olam, dammit.
The more curious of you might be wondering about the location of Upper Grays Meadow. It's just west of Independence, CA., where we have been camping for the last 10 years. I hadn't given much thought to my eternal resting spot, but now that Abby has brought it up, it's sort of a no-brainer.
There's Hillside Memorial nestled between the 405 freeway and the Fox Hills Mall, where I could take my place near Jack Benny, Hank Greenberg and Moe Howard :
Or I could have my ashes scattered about the lush meadow grounds cooled by the Onion Valley River in the Eastern Sierras:
Fire up the oven, Abby.