Eulogy
Dec 18, 2009
I attended a funeral in these past few days.
I sat in the back of the church dressed in black and listened to a priest go on about resurrection and Jesus and that pesky battle at the end of the world when we all get conscripted. I was not amused. When two loved ones of the deceased were brought up to speak on behalf of the deceased, they were allowed only to read selections of religious scripture. Probably best to warn you now, I get angry when people die; it overrides my sadness almost as a defense mechanism. Watching these poor people read these empty and confusing bits of religious writing got my temper going. There was a lot more that should have been said.
On behalf of the deceased I would have walked up there with that little page of religious scripture, crumpled it up and thrown it at the priest. Then I would have said, “John Anthony Esposito was a good guy, the best. He was the father of my best friend and a man I greatly respected and admired for his gruff and straightforward nature. If anywhere in god’s plan resides the necessity for John to have died, then fuck god for poor planning. There are not enough John Anthony Esposito’s in this world. In fact, there aren’t any anymore. It’s as the extinction of a species that will pass into legend.” John, or as I always referred to him, Mr. Esposito, would probably have laughed a that and then told me not to get so down on God, he’s got a lot going on.
I don’t know if Joe will be ready to write something like this for a long while, so I felt it passed to me to honor the man. Joe’s father was a unique force in our world. He was a listener of the show and use to comment to us about it, which always raised our self-awareness on what we were up to. Joe started cursing less because of his father. More so, Mr. Esposito was, I know, one of the heroes of Joe’s world and one of the wiser more respected men in mine. As cunning or witty as you may believe Joe and I will ever be, Mr. Esposito was always a step ahead, honed to a near glass point of commentary. I don’t think he ever realized this about himself, but the great ones never do.
Mr. Esposito was priceless to us, and his loss changed our worlds completely. Isn’t that strange how just one person can make tomorrow a completely different place. I’m sure you all out there have dealt with some kind of loss of this type, and that’s why it felt right to share it with you. The Ozone Nightmare has been a stream of thought and emotion, and you’ve been swimming in it with us a long way now. We’re hurt, we’ll get the current going again soon, promise, but we just need a few minutes to catch our breath.
John Anthony Esposito, you will be missed and cross into myth.
- Lando
