The Goldman State
Ed Goldman is a longtime newspaper and magazine columnist, the author of five books and creator of The Goldman State, a three-times-a-week online column with subscribers in 40 states, Canada and Europe. A professional playwright, composer and painter, Ed has also taught journalism at five California Universities and community colleges. His bucket list includes becoming the victim of a corporate takeover. This podcast is an extension of his unique take on the world around us and his interpretation, with all the creativity imaginable, of what that would literally sound like if he were to speak it.
The Goldman State
Episode 81: Dying to Share This Stuff.
Please text me what you think of this episode. I would love to hear from you.
What is it with the dead? Why do obituaries hold such a secret allure for many of us? Growing up in New York, surrounded by the clamor of daily newspapers, my fascination with obituaries was ignited and flame has never flickered and likely, as I've aged, grown into a torch. Aren't you just dying to know why?
Be sure to subscribe to my thrice weekly column, The Goldman State, by visiting the WEBSITE HERE. Thanks for listening.
00:12 - Ed Goldman (Host)
Hi, this is Ed Goldman with the Goldman State Podcast. I'd like to discuss obituary notices today, those things most of us claim to not read but secretly do. Let's start with a not-that-grim-old joke. Mort Rakowitz celebrates his 90th birthday by booking himself a room in a swank golf course hotel in Miami. His first day there, mort plays 36 holes, gets a massage, takes a steam bath and goes back to his room. After a hot shower he stretches out on his bed for a pre-dinner nap and his heart comes to a complete stop. A few days later, his remaining friends and family attend his open casket funeral. One of the friends looks at him and remarks you know, actually Mort looks pretty good. And another friend says well, you would too if you'd just got back from Miami Bada-bing.
01:03
I've been fascinated with obits since I was a kid. In New York, when I was growing up, there was a slew of daily newspapers, including the New York Times, the Journal American, the Post, the Sun and the Tribune, and I remember my parents pouring over one or more of them to see if someone they knew had died. Since there were so many papers, my folks tended to amass them each day and then skim through them on the weekend. This practice must have infected my DNA To this day. If I go out of town for a few days, I never put a stop on the daily newspapers I subscribe to, and when I sit down after my trip to go through the news and mail, my first priority is reviewing the death notices. My first priority is reviewing the death notices. When I'm satisfied that no one I know made the list, including me, I mix myself a martini and settle into my easy chair. To be honest, if a familiar name pops up, I may still mix that martini, but I settle into that chair a little less easily.
02:00
Three aspects of obituaries I've never understood are the following A the ones that run two pictures of the deceased, one when they were young and one in their dotage, if they were lucky enough to have made it that far. These side-by-side photos seem unintentionally cruel. I recall my grandma, molly, looking at just such a display and lamenting in her Russian-Yiddish accent what can happen to a poison? Now, these aren't your usual before and after shots, in which the people are first seen in need of a diet, head of hair or jowl modification, and the second photo shows how terrific they look once they lose 326 pounds, get fitted with a smart toupee or suddenly have a jaw Instead. Obit pics remind you that very few of us look better at 92 than we did at 32.
02:45
Another aspect of obits I don't get or point B if you're being alphabetical nicknames I can't understand why, when my time comes, the obits headline will likely refer to me as Edward quote Ed, unquote Goldman as though my professional name, ed, was dreamt up out of thin air. I simply can't envision someone reading the notice, hitting himself on the forehead as though he could have had a V8, and declaring of course now I know why Edward was called Ed. On the other hand, sometimes the dearly departed had nicknames that made no sense whatsoever. I'm not talking about someone named Margaret, our little Margie Tornquist. No, I'm referring to a notice that mourns the passing of Arthur Joseph Ralph Masterson. How did a guy with two very serviceable given names wind up with a completely unrelated third one? And finally, c. I grieve for real when I read that someone died.
03:43
Quote surrounded by loved ones unquote. However, I'm always inclined to wonder first just how many loved ones surrounded the deceased. The newspaper could round this off or just approximate the number, but either way, I think it tells a little more about a life lived. For example, if the deceased was known to have an enormous family and most of them lived in the area, wouldn't it be useful to learn that he died surrounded by only four loved ones, for example? Also, how did the loved ones surround the deceased? Did they move his bed into the middle of the room? How else could they have surrounded him?
04:19
In my experience as a patient and visitor to hospitals, the usual protocol is that at least the head of the bed is against a wall. For theater buffs, this is the difference between staging something thrust style, in which the audience is seated on three sides, or in the round, which is also called arena style. But unless the deceased draws a crowd of at least 40 to his bedside, this seems a bit like overstatement, wouldn't you agree? Unless, of course, the guy just got back from Miami and looks pretty damn good. That always draws a crowd. I'm Ed Goldman. My column, the Goldman State, comes out every Monday, wednesday and Friday. You can subscribe for free at GoldmanStatecom. Thanks for listening.