There’s so much wrong with this that I don’t even know where to start. First of all, who tweets out a picture of somebody’s late relative FROM THE FUNERAL HOME? And then, who tries to make the funeral all about the PASTOR instead of the grieving family?
Apparently even the people at Longview Baptist Temple figured out how inappropriate this was because they’ve since pulled the tweet down.
173 thoughts on “Fundy Tweet of the Week: Funeral Manners”
People just don’t get that, because you can take a picture, that doesn’t mean you should take a picture, and, worse, post it publicly. At least this dear saint doesn’t have to look at herself on Twitter.
I used to work with someone who had an aunt who took pictures of loved ones in their caskets. She then had 8×10’s framed, which she placed in a special room in her house.
Such “Mortuary Portraits” were common in the 19th Century, when photography had first become widespread but expensive.
There was this book called “Wisconsin Death Trip” in the Seventies, collated from news stories and photo archives of late 19th Century Wisconsin. The most common photo in the archives were Mortuary Portraits of children and infants in their coffins.
In quite a few cases, the casket portraits were the only photos ever taken of the people shown.
Some of them were even posed in a casual scenario, like reading a book, or having dinner with the family.
You are correct. Suppose it’s making a come back. Leave it up to the Fundies to do that. ; )
I’m dead serious – when it comes to tweeting out the dearly departed, one should remain as silent as the grave.
I can work my way through the grief if I know that Pastor Gray is doing okay.
Yes, I know when one of my family members dies, my biggest concern is “How’s the pastor feeling?”
But all Fundies are mandated to pray for their IFB pastor!!!!!!
You guys are too funny. I almost died laughing.
Seriously,you’re killing me.
Me too! I am cracking up here!!
Years ago my brother (also a cop) worked a freeway pedestrian fatality where a semi hit a pedestrian and carried him “like a human fly” on the semi’s grill for hundreds of feet. The semi hit the brakes and the mangled body fell to the pavement. When the mortician arrived to pick up the body, my brother looked at him gravely and requested, “Would you make him look like he’s just asleep?”
“… my brother looked at him gravely …”
I see what you did there.
The old pray-for-the-pastor request, which really means feel-sorry-for-the-pastor, or sometimes be-envious-of-the-pastor (Please pray for travel mercies for Pastor as he prepares for his month long tour of the states and Alaskan cruise)
People will be saved during the funeral message if the pastor preeeches Just Right and scares the living helloutta everyone.
I had a Fundy pastor tell me once that it was very cruel to scare people at a funeral…it was refreshing!
Why, yes…Yes, I feel called to missions in the Hawaiian Islands!
This is grotesque.
I’m so horrified by their basic lack of humanity that I don’t even have a pun to add.
And here I thought the fundies couldn’t shock me any more than they’ve already done. Go figure.
A while back, a pastor speaking at the funeral of one of my elderly relatives thought that then was a good time to tell us that God doesn’t talk to pastors like he talks to everyone else. He used Moses as an example to substantiate that claim.
Unfortunately, the LBT tweet, horribly insensitive and inappropriate though it is, isn’t really that shocking considering the source. Narcissistic putzes!
I know one preacher who is totally incapable of discussing ANY topic without making it all about himself. Problem is, he’s not at all interesting and is largely a bore. How creation ever got along before he showed up is a mystery only the angels can comprehend….and I sometimes wonder if they can figure him out.
How about the visiting preacher that spends ten minutes trying to figure out how to arrange the platform speakers so he can hear his own voice…in front of everyone!!!! Seriously, sat through that one about 15 yrs,. ago!!!
Moses is a favorite preaching topic for narcissistic preachers – Moses was allowed to be the sole ruler over every spiritual activity – and God even punished those who criticized Moses or who tried to lead a rebellion.
(I suspect that, deep inside, these pastor see themselves as a combination of Moses – leading a bunch of ignoramuses – and Elijah – “I am the ONLY one following God”. They secretly hope that God will kill those who rebel at their authority, like God did with Korah, or strike them down with illness, as God did with Miriam).
The problem is that Moses and the Isrealites are NOT a template for a new testament church.
Bob Gray is just another in the “Jack Hyles” style of church, in which the pastor is God to the people, and the church is only there to see people “saved” (say a prayer) and baptized. Christian growth is entirely optional.
That may be harsh, but I’ve been there, done that, and have the scars to know whereof I speak.
Very good point. I find those who say that OT Israel is not the church, but then claim it’s promises for the church, to be somewhat amusing. As well as inaccurate.
If anything, OT Israel is an example of the individual believer. Doubtful, whiny, unfaithful, grumbling, annoying, and still loved by God.
I don’t think they want real growth, just growth in their brand of churchyness. If you really grow you’ll find out their brand of churchyness is a just a giant manure spreader.
You mean a new born baby can’t take care of itself? scratches head….
Are green cullottes still “in”…?
This is just dead wrong.
You’re dead right!
Prayers for the family are indicated. Prayers for the pastor are optional.
And we should remember that the Holy Spirit is the Comforter, not the Pastor.
Not to mention that this is a huge invasion of privacy.
The day before yesterday we buried my wife’s uncle.
He was a member of a United Methodist church. The pastor and pastor emeritus spoke of his love for people and how he showed the love of God to others. No attempt at “giving the gospel,” no preaching about hell or “are you ready to meet God?”, no asking if someone wants to receive Christ as Savior. Just a loving, sweet remembrance without distraction or changing of focus.
It was refreshing. While I am sure there were some “unsaved” people there, I don’t think that was the time to get them “saved.” God has the time to work in hearts, and He works in them as He desires. No need for pressure tactics.
I have attended funerals where the preacher almost ignored the deceased as he focused on trying to get people saved. That felt entirely inappropriate.
“I have attended funerals where the preacher almost ignored the deceased as he focused on trying to get people saved. That felt entirely inappropriate.”
I recently attended the funeral of a close childhood friend who died very young (43) of natural causes, and the pastor criticized him and questioned his salvation as he focused on trying to get people saved. It seemed wildly inappropriate to me too, and a bad testimony to boot. And I know my friend had sincerely trusted Christ as a child. I don’t know how this made his family feel, but I was cringing, and a little angry.
My experience may be limited, but that strikes me as an unusual funeral protocol:
“Let us now speak ill of the dead.”
The worst funeral I ever attended was blighted by a preacher who turned the entire proceeding into something akin to a Friday night youth rally. It was irreverent, inappropriate, and saccharin sweet sickening.
I totally agree. I was at a funeral this summer for somone and a pc-usa minister actually talked about “being saved” and how you could know you are going to heaven. I was sort of put out. This is a time for remembering the good things and good times, it’s not a time to put in a plug for attending church or being “saved” I guess it really surprised me that a pc-usa minister talked so long and had so much “being saved” theology in a funeral sermon but i suppose they are all different…
But only if you are one of the frozen chosen.
You mean like Walt Disney?
Just let it go. Let it go…
For the first time in forever I feel like we were so close.
I attended a funeral of a man, my friend’s beloved father, where the preacher talked of his wonderful life he was leaving and the wonderful life he was entering. The congregation got into it, with joy. It was a celebration of the man’s life and faith. It was not an IFB funeral.
I told the preacher I was booking him for my funeral, ahead of time.
That is what a funerals should be, a celebration of life .
My 1st husband proved he was “the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral” when my grandmother died. The pastor didn’t know her and said “We’re here to honor Louella, but we’re not gonna talk about. Louella, we’re honor talk about this church. ” This was the first time he met many of my extended family members, but he let out a huge guffaw at that.
Five years later, he died. He was an atheist. His family picked out a pastor he never met before to do the final eulogy. This pastor did the exact same thing.
Ironic, don’t ya think.
I read your post several times and I think I got it. You said a helluva lot there in your short post, sister. I’m in awe.
Could be worse. Could have been a selfie.
Zombie apocalypse!!! Finally!!!
When I first saw this, (I haven’t had my morning brew-it’s perking as we speak) I thought it was a white piano post. Then my eyes focused, and I saw a white coffin. I was ready to read a white coffin post similar to the white piano, and saw a very tasteless tweet. Even though it isn’t a piano, it has been well played. Darrell must have posted this just about the time I laid myself to rest.
Looking at the picture, I wonder if the lack of flowers is because she requested no flowers at her funeral, or if LBT members don’t give flowers because “that money should go to a soul-winnin’ cause”.
It looks like they are having the wake /visitation at the church.
The pastor, at the church in worked at, pushed this idea. A corpse under fluorescent lighting does not look good. There is a reason for the pink lights . I also hated it , because they would have the viewing outside my office.
The first funeral I remember attending was of a sweet older missionary in Mexico. Custom dictated that she be laid out for viewing for a few days. Custom also dictated that food be served constantly to the huge numbers of people coming and going.
The table assigned to the children was outside on the covered patio, in full view of the casket in the next room. On the menu was macaroni salad, which I had never encountered before. My older brother informed us that it was made of the dead woman’s brains, and we’d better eat it or risk offending our hosts.
It was almost 20 years before I ever ate macaroni salad again.
LBT was grossly insensitive to publicly post this.
This reminds me of a post from someone calling themselves “Cracked Pot” on the old FFF. He spoke of a staff member from Jim Vineyards church in OKC who sneaked a similar picture of the deceased child of a former member, and said this photo was used to scare people about what Gid does to those who touch His mannogid.
At my cousins funeral a few years ago the “preacher” said “I’m sure right now she is looking Jesus in the face and wishing she had done better”. My cousin had been clean for about a year and then got back with old friends and went too far. She made a bad decision and paid for it with her life. It got really quiet at the funeral and one person exclaimed in disgust “Oh my God”.
Sorry, but that is just SICK !
Preacher, we all wish we had done better, but that’s no excuse for kicking someone who is in no position to defend herself.
I suspect Jesus is probably going to say something like, “Well it’s a damn good thing I took care of that righteousness thing for you, innit? Now let me show you these gold streets Noah’s been working on. Yeah, he’s kind of OCD.”
I would probably have walked out. I would probably have punched the “Preacher” first.
Yeah and my parents wonder why none of their children are interested in being IFB anymore
I have a feeling the IFB thing will die out eventually. ha!
Thats why Im being cremated after donating organs and gonna have my funeral somewhere like I dunno…Hooters.
At least at Hooters, you’ll get a smile and some hot food, instead of speculation about the state of your soul.
Of course you’d also get asked about the state of your soul at a cobbler’s. 😀
That’s a joke that works spoken, but not written.
A long time ago now, my father (now deceased) invested in a crematorium. When I mentioned that fact to a good friend, he replied without hesitation, “There’s a lot of stiff competition in that business.”
I imagine a crematorium would be considered a hot commodity in some markets.
Better than sinking all your money into burial plots.
You’d definitely urn more money with a crematorium.
There is a lovely cemetery here in town people are just dying to get a plot in.
It occurs to me that few people plan to be morticians when they grow up…it’s a vocation you just sort of fall in to…
Had to sit through an uncle’s funeral where the “preacher” talked mostly about himself (no kidding, at one point he said ‘let me tell you a story about ME!’) and did an altar call. My husband didn’t listen to the instructions, and wound up giving the signal that he was saved. I assure you he is NOT.
I hope nobody was watching me when that idiot was preaching. I know it was all over my face how much I despised him.
or maybe your husband did listen, and just assumed not join in this morbid sideshow.
And yeah, also getting cremated, no ministers, no funeral home, party to be held at a venue TBA.
Will it be a barbecue?
Well I’m vegetarian, so…
So are cows.
You are what you eat
There is actually a long tradition of taking portraits of deceased people lying in state, as it were.
Tweeting the pix on Twitter is a new one on me, but I guess it was inevitable.
Then there’s this, for which I really have no comment:
By the way, today is my birthday.
If anyone would like to give me a present, I’ve got my eye on the fish coffin shown here:
Happy birthday! A coofin would be a slightly unusual present. And I hope you won’t have to use it for a while… But I do I like the idea 🙂
Oh, and may you have many more birthdays
¡Happy Birthday, BG!
As a birthday present, please accept the above 2/3rds of a lifetime’s supply of exclamation points.
All the best,
Happy birthday! Now get off my lawn!
Happy B’day, and many more!
FWIW I prefer the beer bottle coffin.
Would you accept a used coffin? My neighbor sells some creepy stuff in his yard sales.
Exactly how used do you mean? On the other hand, maybe some questions are best left unanswered.
The previous occupant was indifferent to its re-disposal.
I imagine there will be many used coffins available after the pan-trib rapture.
Happy birthday! It’s my sister’s birthday, too–hope you don’t mind sharing. May you both have many more.
That is a seriously cool fish coffin, but I think I’d rather have the pineapple.
Sophia Loren was also born on September 14th. I don’t mind sharing with her.
Well, instead of a coffin, how about a marble headstone? Please don’t take it for granite.
I needed a chuckle!! : )
Somebody better be damn sure to take my picture if I ever manage to be placed in that pineapple coffin.
If you do, I hope you’ll be wearing a Carmen Miranda-style hat.
“If anyone at my funeral has a long face, I’ll never speak to him again” – Stan Laurel
An anteater showed up at a funeral, and the preacher said, “Why the long face?”
Guess the horse couldn’t make it. 😛
Why the long face?
A: Heavy dentures.
Bernie’s cat was run over by a steamroller. Bernie was so upset, standing there with a long puss.
I think I ran over that cat. I offered to replace it. He said, Well, okay… But how are you at catching mice?
I know that joke is old. The last time I told it the Dead Sea was only sick.
I was recently looking at old family photos from 90+ years ago and I was surprised to see several photos of dead people in their caskets. I guess this sort of thing may have been common at one time. That being said, it IS morbid and I hope nobody does that of me.
I recall reading somewhere, sometime, that it used to be common to take pictures of the dead for a couple of reasons. Mind you, the pictures I read about weren’t in coffins, but the bodies were dressed up and posed as though alive, often asleep. First, photos were very expensive, as noted above, and a death was an excellent prompt to pay the money for a remembrance. Second, although the dead were often posed with the living (such as a family portrait), it was easier to photograph the dead as they didn’t move during the long exposures of early photography. I found those details interesting, but still disturbingly morbid. I find it impossible to forget the mental image of a loved one in a coffin – can’t see a picture being necessary or wanted…
I once read an article about that sort of death photography. It mentioned the portraits of children in particular, and one line always stayed with me. “In some cases, the funeral picture may be the only proof the child ever existed.”
Yes. I read about that as well. In those days, more children died than lived.
In Puritan Massachusetts, the calvinistic preachers preached that children who died too young to have faith in Christ went to hell, since God only wrote the names of the redeemed in the Lamb’s Book of Life. If you did not have faith in Christ, you had to go to hell for eternity. No exceptions. That was God’s way. He that believeth not shall be damned.
Many a mother went insane with grief in those days, thinking that her infant child was suffering in hell.
We think of people in the Victorian era as being sentimental about death, especially child death, but they also published things like this:
On the subject of Little Willie, here’s one of my favorites:
My favorite “Little Willie” is a bit newer than Victorian. It’s in one of my humor compilations in the front room, likely from Anonymous:
Willie found some dynamite,
Couldn’t understand it quite.
Curiosity never pays;
It rained Willie seven days.
They’re not “Little Willie” poems, but here are a couple of old limercks I wrote:
A man of the diving profession
Insisted on giving a lesson.
Had the pool been filled,
He would not have been killed.
Yet he left us a lasting impression.
A foolish card sharp from Green Bay
Was proud of the skill he’d display.
When he played his last hand
He did not understand
That a club beats a flush any day.
A man of the diving profession
Insisted on giving a lesson.
Had the pool been filled,
He would not have been killed.
Yet he left us a lasting impression.
A foolish card sharp from Green Bay
Was proud of the skill he’d display.
When he played his last hand
He did not understand
That a club beats a flush any day.
Here’s some more good stuff–
It IS all about the MOG, don’t you people know this? The MOG is a “legend in his own mind”.
I have seen some really awful stuff at Fundy funerals. It started with my own son’s funeral when I was scolded by an asshole IFB MOG for not rejoicing that he was in heaven.
The next was of my beloved Motherinlaw’s funeral when an asshole IFB MOG wannabe who was asked to sing decided to take the opportunity to preach against seeeyaan first in an over-the-top way and uninvited to do so.
The third was when a 17-year old teenage boy was killed in a rebellious mistake and the IFB MOG asshole pompously prayed publicly for “_od” to take away all the parent’s pain.
I never use the term asshole in my everyday speak but words fail me to come up with a better descriptor as this particular topic Darrell posted dredges up a lot of bad memories.
People are emotionally scarred for life by this crap.
I appreciate some if the lighthearted posts at the beginning.
We can laugh or cry. Sometimes we desperately need to do both.
I believe that’s Southern “sin”. Or some drawn-out accent, anyway 🙂
Oh, that makes sense. I presumed it wasn’t because they didn’t like Sean Penn or Sean Connery. 🙄
I’m not southern, unless it’s from the perspective if the North Pole, but my term seeeyaan is sarcasm sort of like haymen.
Speaking if which………I love the word Amen. I’ve grown to hate the Fundy version where the word has almost become a curse word to me when the Fundies put a hyper-emphasis on the “A” part of Amen to Haymen!!! like someone goosed them just prior to declaring it 🙂
Off topic I know but it fits your question of seeeyaan 🙂
Seeyaan and haymen…. Can’t stand either way they say that!!
It’s a seductive way of saying “sin” (Usually whispered in somebody’s ear).
Yes, rejoice at your child’s funeral. Uh huh. Wasn’t there a verse someplace about weep with those who weep?
That is beyond rude, beyond disgusting! “Be happy your child is dead!?!” Would you like to join him in having that honor? 😈
The hard part is that the Fundy MOG is married to my wife’s sister. I occasionally have to see this person and some time ago made it clear to him to keep his big mouth shut or stay away from me. I have learned to be very intimidating when I have to be. I don’t like to be though. I am generally a calm gentle grandfather who loves to give hugs and be loved. Life is short and I want to be remembered and known as a gentle and loving man.
I am amazed that you manage to have any interactions with him at all. I hope he’s matured somewhat since telling you to rejoice that your son was gone. I’m still just shaking my head in disbelief and anger that someone would expect you to rejoice. Don’t these men read their Bibles where Jesus wept with Mary and Martha?
I avoid him when I can. In the meantime I pretty much ripped him a new butt a number of years ago. I made him feel very uncomfortable around me. That’s just how I want it. My wife’s side of the family is very large so I can easily avoid him.
I found in my 60’s that it takes too much energy to stay angry. I can’t change what happened in the past but I sure can change how I allow IFB MOG’s to treat me in the present and the future.
One thing I have learned through all this is to be sensitive and compassionate.
Wow. I’m am sorry to hear that 🙁
I appreciate that. My father drowned when I was a little boy. Had to grow up with a godless step__ther and psychopath step-siblings. My mother was too scared to do anything. As a result of having no positive roll models I was woefully unprepared for life. A lot like a Forrest Gump story but things never turned out in my favor. Subsequently I walked right into a lot if abusive situations believing whatever I was told. I wanted to be wise and smart but I wasn’t so I was low-hanging fruit for IFB Fundy MOGS. I did get smarter and wiser. It took me a while to realize that IFB MOGS are what they are and to RUN!!!!
Don’t be sorry. I did learn. Had it not been for falling victim into the IFB meat grinder I could still be deeply immersed in that garbage.
I wish my autocorrect would catch the “if” when I intend “of”. It must be judging my seeeyaan.
I was raised in an incredibly godless and abusive environment as a child. The Fundies inflicted far more pain and emotional scarring on me than my childhood.
We are so spoiled in this country and protected. If and when persecution comes to the American Christian church all the gobbledegook phony religiosity and posturing will be purged. When it really costs you to declare your faith in Christ then the cockroaches will hide under the linoleum.
A hearse was carrying a coffin up a hill to the cemetery when it ran over a pothole in the road. The back door was jarred open and the coffin rolled out the back down the hill. It turned the corner into the Woolworth, out the back door down the alley then into Sears & Roebuck into the tools and hardware, twice around the appliances then back out the front door across the street into the Walgreen Drug and bumped into the pharmacy counter. The pharmacist looked down as the coffin door opened. The body in the coffin sat up and said: “You got something to stop my coughing (coffin)?”
It isn’t the cough
that carries you off;
it’s the coffin they carry you off in.
I definitely don’t want a religious funeral. Maybe I’ll make a will that says I’ll have to be stuffed and kept in my purple rocking chair on the parlor. Or just go the cremation route. Have a scientist sprinkle my ashes in an erupting volcano. Mwa wha wha…
Not only that, when I die I want to have given away all of my worldly goods and money except for small inheritances for the kids. Or whatever money I have. And it will all go to combatting spiritual abuse.
Granted, you might get pretty ripe after a while…
I think that funeral customs are regionally & culturally dictated in this country. At least with my family (which resides in the Deep South) they must have a full funeral (special music, sermon, etc) flowers, carry in dinner, all that stuff.
In Alaska, many are cremated with no memorial ceremony whatsoever. I’ve never seen or heard anyone being critical of this.
I want to be cremated and half of my ashes scattered at Hatcher Pass, Alaska. The other half is to be placed in an urn on a shelf over the bed. So my widow can think of me if she remarries:)
I hear the ashes make good fertilizer. She can use them to grow her bridal bouquet for her next wedding 🙂
I have told my wife and children that I wish to be cremated. If my wife dies first, I intend to cremate her, and when I die, I want the children to mix our ashes and scatter them at the beach we so love.
Of course, if she dies first, she can do what she likes. I am a romantic at heart and she is more practically minded. And she has never said what she would do if I die first.
I once told someone in the IFB church that I wanted to be cremated, and they reacted in horror. Didn’t I want the resurrection? I told her (I think it was a her) that if God could resurrect my decayed corpse, then He could use the ashes just as easily. What would it matter? It isn’t as if my scattered family would make a trip to the graveyard to mourn (and I wouldn’t want them to!).
I suppose the martyrs that were burned at the stake are screwed then as well!
I know of this Hatcher Pass place. Good choice.
Funerals in America are big business, and I find it detestable.
I came to know the finest (IMO) of funeral traditions during my years living in an Inupiat Eskimo village on the shoreline of the Arctic Ocean.
If someone died, the shop teacher at the local school would hand-make a coffin out of wood. The family of the deceased would wash and dress the body and place it in the hand-made coffin–a last tangible act of love. The workers from municipal services would dig a grave (with heavy equipment) in the frozen tundra. There was no embalming.
Then the village would gather at the church. The funeral would be long, with singing, special music, and a sermon which was not geared toward evangelism. After the burial, close friends and family would gather at the home of the deceased for a “singspiration” until 1 or 2 AM. Big sendoff.
By custom, the next child born in the village of the same gender is named after the departed. And I never ever heard an Inupiat speak ill of the dead. I learned a great deal from my years among these people.
That sounds amazing. I would like that kind of send off. I think we insulate ourselves from death so much that we miss an important opportunity to grieve as we serve our loved ones.
I am personally familiar with the village burial. BJG- you are pretty much correct. There is also the friends and family congregating around the house during and after the funeral. Someone cooks LOTS. And the singing.
If one of ours is dying at the Native hospital in Anchorage we will go and visit there. It is mandatory and none of my non-Native friends quite understand this need to visit. There is always a constant stream of visitors if you’re sick (or just had a baby) in Anchorage. It might be the only time you get to see a relative.
My people (Texans) do this, too. When I grew up, I was surprised to learn that it is not a universal custom.
My mother died in 1998. My brother (who was in Pt. Hope), my wife and I left our village and met in South Carolina. We were in a relative’s house and the church people came over with food–very nice. But they talked and talked. They talked sports, politics, whatever.
My brother, wife and I went outside. We had learned from our Native friends to sit with the grieving family and be quiet, to show respect.
There are those relatives that you only seem to see at funerals (less often weddings), I remember several when my grandparents and great uncles died.
The Japanese have a custom I admiral, that at one, two, or three years after a death, the family comes together to reminiscence about the loved one. It’s a nice idea that wouldn’t be out of place here.
I meant ADMIRE, darn that George!
We have noticed similar insensitivity at the local assembly of Fundys.
Allow me to add a couple of my “funeral stories”:
At one funeral, the minister obviously didn’t know very much about the deceased, so he asked for input from those assembled. One person was going on and on about all the wonderful attributes about the deceased when my sister-in-law uttered under her breath (but loud enough for several people to hear), “Yeah right.”
One funeral went on for so long that folks began leaving at about the two-hour point. (First time I’d ever witnessed that.)
Finally, at a viewing, I was asked to take a photo of the deceased by the son. I asked him if he was sure, and he replied yes. So I waited until everyone had left and took the photo.
Bud Abbott: You’d better take that suit over to my Uncle Herman’s, At the Kurt Dry Cleaning Plant.
Lou Costello: Dry Cleaning Plant? What’s your Uncle Herman doing there?
Bud Abbott: Well this is Wednesday, He’s dyeing today.
Lou Costello: That’s terrible Abbott, I didn’t even know he was sick.
Bud Abbott: Oh, He isn’t sick, he’s dyeing.
Lou Costello: He’s dying and he isn’t sick?
Bud Abbott: That’s right, if he was sick he couldn’t dye.
Lou Costello: Why not?
Bud Abbott: Well it’s against the rules of the cleaning plant.
Lou Costello: You mean they wouldn’t let him die if he’s sick.
Bud Abbott: That’s right. If a man is sick they wont let him into the place to dye.
Lou Costello: What do they do leave him out in the alley?
Bud Abbott: Oh no no no! He cant dye in the alley.
Lou Costello: He can’t?
Bud Abbott: No, if he wants to dye he has to go up seven floors.
Lou Costello: He’s got to die on the seventh floor?
Bud Abbott: Well certainly.
Lou Costello: Is there any elevator in the place?
Bud Abbott: No.
Lou Costello: The nerve of the people!
Bud Abbott: What do you mean?
Lou Costello: Making a poor man climb seven floors to die! Why don’t they send him home?
Bud Abbott: Because his wife won’t let him dye in the house.
Lou Costello: Wife don’t?
Bud Abbott: She don’t want him dyeing in the house.
Lou Costello: She don’t?
Bud Abbott: No.
Lou Costello: He might as well go crawl under a rock. Imagine a guy can’t even die in his own house.
Bud Abbott: No no, if there’s any dyeing to be done around the house, his wife does it.
Lou Costello: You mean his wife has got to die too?
Bud Abbott: Certainly.
Lou Costello: Abbott, what are you trying to do bump off the whole family?
Bud Abbott: Oh, keep quiet.
Lou Costello: I’m going to bring Uncle Herman to my house to die.
Bud Abbott: Oh, he couldn’t dye at your house.
Lou Costello: And why couldn’t he die at my house?
Bud Abbott: Because you have no dye.
Lou Costello: You gotta have dye to die?
Bud Abbott: Costello would you pay attention! I’m trying to tell you that Uncle Herman has to dye so he could live.
Lou Costello: Well naturally…What was that?
Bud Abbott: I said my Uncle Herman has to dye to live. If he doesn’t dye he can’t eat.
Lou Costello: You mean he eats after he dies?
Bud Abbott: Well certainly, he dyes for a while then he eats. Then he dyes again then he eats some more.
Lou Costello: Must be the food that’s killing him!!! He must be eating at your Backstage joint.
Bud Abbott: No no no you idiot!! A man has to eat if he stands up all day dyeing.
Lou Costello: You mean he has to stand up to die?
Bud Abbott: Naturally, did you ever hear of anybody lying down to dye?
Lou Costello: All the people I ever knew. They use the standard way.
Bud Abbott: No no no, he can’t lie down on the job. He’s got to be through dyeing by six o’clock. If he dyes after six he gets time and a half.
Lou Costello: You mean he gets paid for dying?
Bud Abbott: Oh sure, It’s piece work.
Lou Costello: He dies a piece at a time?
Bud Abbott: Look you idiot, when I say Uncle Herman is dyeing, I don’t mean that he’s dying like a person dies when he dies. I mean he’s dyeing for a living and a person that dyes for a living is living even though that he’s dyeing!
Lou Costello: When you say that Uncle Herman is dyeing, you don’t mean that he’s dying like a person dies when he dies. You mean he’s dyeing for a living and a person that dyes for a living is living even though that he’s dyeing!
Bud Abbott: Now you’ve got it.
Lou Costello: I don’t even know what I’m talking about!