Thursday, September 15, 2011

513. The Ultimate Recycler

Talk turns, as often does, to recycling. The Husband and I are discussing our final final (as in final) wishes, and I state clearly (which negates any Will I may or may not have written at a previous time): You may put my ashes in a Baskin-Robbins container.

The Husband, as has been known to do in the past, laughs when I am being serious. (And the equally cruel if not more cruel corollary: Does not laugh when I am joking.) Why does he not believe/ not-want-to-carry-out my final wishes? Have you seen the urn choices available lately? They are not pretty.

I thought for a long long time (okay, six seconds) about what type of container would be appropriate for my Queen Virgo ashes. (Appropriate answer: none.) Then I thought, Aha! A Haagen-Dazs container! However, upon going to the freezer and inspecting the plethora of Haagen Dazs (and let me interject by saying that when I was younger I thought it was “Hog and Dots”) containers littering the landscape of our otherwise uninhabited freezer, it became painfully clear to me that Haagen Dazs not only makes delicious ice-cream, they also care about the environment and make their containers out of flimsy biodegradable paper.

Hence, the upgrade in urn materials (plastic) and the downgrade in ice-cream (Baskin-Robbins).

Before you email me saying how Baskin-Robbins is waaaaaaaaaay better than any other kind (and you are absolutely right about mint-chip), please remember that my ashes will not be in there for all eternity: I want my family members to sprinkle (read: fling while trying to make sure the wind does not blow my ashes back onto unfortunate family members or funeral director whom I have never met but who will run the funeral saying things like, “All who knew her loved her,” and “She was a really hard worker,” while all my former co-workers from the high-end kitchen store snicker) my ashes into the water (lake, ocean, river, tributary, whatever) while they run through a slide show of my (fabulous, yet tragically cut short at the tender age of 98) life.

So you see, I (or “The Ashes of MOV”) won’t actually be in the Baskin-Robbins pint container very long.

I hear laughing. Maybe my full-sized bones are not quite tiny enough for a pint. Maybe a quart might be suitable. (I heard you again! Stop saying “gallon”!)

So. On the ship. Queen Mary, Cunard, Crystal Cruises. Throwing ashes overboard from the Baskin-Robbins container.

It is fitting, isn’t it? Considering how much I love love love love love love love love love love did I mention love ice cream. Mmmmmmmmmmm.

So that’s it for today. It wasn’t meant to be funny. It was just meant to save The Husband $119.00 on a stupid urn he doesn’t even want so he could make better use of that money at the roulette wheel on the cruise.

P.S. Not a paid advertisement by Haagen Dazs. Or Baskin-Robbins.


  1. OH. MY. GOD.
    without reading this i just wanna slap on the first comment because i was here the moment it was published, in an Orange Shirt, NATCH.
    -Pincushion Motaki (still sore)

  2. Secondary after-reading compliment:
    Maybe you could convince Baskin-Robbin's to make your ashes INTO a quart of icecream. Wait, no. that's gross. Scratch that.

  3. Around here, it would have to be Blue Bell. :)

  4. hi Motaki, I admire your dedication. and your orange shirt. :) and your use of the uber-cool word: natch, natch.

    as for comment number 2, how about a tribute to all my favorite flavors? it could be called "MOV-stravaganza" or "MOV-delite" or some such. It would be layers of mint chip, interspersed with layers of coffee (Starbucks) and layers of vodka (Absolut). Oh, I can just HEAR the royalty checks pouring in right now!

    Le'Ann, what is this Blue Bell of which you speak? do they stock good ol' chocolate?


  5. Blue Bell is a little creamery located in Brenham, Texas, and they make the most amazing ice cream. It's only available in Texas (and maybe parts of Oklahoma) and is the reason that I would never want to live anywhere else. :)


When you write a comment, it makes me feel like I won the lottery or at the very least like I ate an ice-cream sundae. (This has nothing to do with the fact that I did just eat an ice-cream sundae.)