Well, there you have two subjects that I bet just made you just want to pop open this blog and get right to it!
These are two subjects with which each and every one of us has to deal in some form or another. Who was it, Mark Twain, Ben Franklin, Will Rogers? Someone very wise, I think, opined that the only things a person could be sure about were death and taxes.
So far as taxes are concerned they have been with us as long as humans have participated in society. There is a cost to EVERYTHING . . . without exception. Call it the price of operation, or the sales price or the cost of governing. Whether it’s paid in animal hides or direct deposit, everything gets paid for one way or another. All our government taxes amount to, in very basic terms, is the cost of goods and services . . . and, perhaps, a bit of graft from time to time.
There is a cost to every single thing we humans do. There is a cost to that drink of water whether it’s in a bottle or from the tap. Even the farmer has to pay his animals and machines to do work for him, whether it’s hay and oats or gas and oil. Even if you live off the grid, there is a personal cost in time and energy to gather food and make shelter.
So, bottom line being , it’s the price of being alive. Get over it!
Then there’s that birth and death thing. These two experiences bind every mortal being in existence. We all complain long and loudly about the birth part. We just don’t remember it. But the parent who woke up for the 2 a.m. feeding sure does! So, that leaves the other common denominator: death. Having recently dealt with the passing of my older brother, it has been an interesting experience to make note of how various generational strata deal with the subject.
Children, under what we consider normal circumstances, seldom deal with death directly. When it is a grandparent or even an aunt or uncle, there is a distance that insulates them from dwelling on it in a very personal manner. But as the generations above us depart this mortal coil (interesting term) the death experience takes on a more personal tack.
When it was my grandparents, well, that was just the way of life, the normal progression of life, as it were. But when my parents went, it was like another line of defense between my generation and the specter of death was gone. Now I am starting to deal with the loss of my generation. It’s kinda like “batter up” in the march of life experiences.
For years, I’ve talked about what I want for my memorial service. In fact, in a conversation I had with a girlfriend when I was in my mid-40’s, I said that I wanted my kids to wait until the insurance money came in and then throw a huge potluck. I’d leave a list of my favorite food and my favorite music and everyone was to bring pictures and videos and anything else pertinent to my activities in life. I thought for a few minutes, then declared that it sounded like a great party and I really didn’t want to miss it.
We drove on another few miles then I stated, “I know! Every good musician has a rehearsal. So, for my 50th birthday we’ll have the “Adrienne Jacoby 50th Birthday Wake Rehearsal Party.” And we did, complete with me riding in a hearse with a parade of friends following. I have the video to prove it.
A couple of years ago, after I told my daughter that I wanted some of my ashes in Lake Shasta and some in Lake Tahoe and the rest buried with my parents in Santa Cruz her comment was, “Why should your internment be any different than the way you lived your life? A road trip!”
Adrienne Jacoby is a 40-plus-year resident of Shasta County and native-born Californian. She was a teacher of vocal music in the Enterprise Schools for 27 years and has been retired for 11 years.
A musician all her life, she was married to the late Bill Jacoby with whom she formed a locally well -known musical group who prided themselves in playing for weddings, wakes, riots, bar mitzvas and super market openings. And, oh yes … she has two children, J’Anna and Jayson.
