The hardest thing about leaving Scotland?
The hardest thing about leaving Scotland? I wish I knew how to quit ewe.
Listen, we've done the pallbearer thing a lot recently, and I think it's time to put some of this down on paper. The first time I had to bear pall, I didn't know what the hell I was doing. I was like a rookie linebacker: thinking instead of reacting.
Sooner or later I'm going to be the one in the box, and I don't want you guys screwing this up. You don't get a mulligan. So pay attention.
First, to whoever's the first one to hear that I'm dead-- go to my place and remove all the porn before my family gets in there and discovers it. I promise to do the same for you if you die first. Don't be squeamish. I helped a friend move once and ended up carrying his big-box-o'-gay-porn, and I didn't die from cooties. I died from massive tick infestation. Not the same thing. Anyway, I don't care what you do with the porn. I don't know if they take porn at the St. Vincent De Paul shelter. But I guess you could try. Just to warn you, though, they didn't take a leather couch of mine once because it was kind of beat up. And the Salvation Army didn't take a portable wet bar. What's that about? It was for f-r-e-e.
Second, for God's sake don't wear the super fancy dress shoes with the leather soles! You're going to squeak all the way down the church aisle, which is bad enough. What is worse is when you fall on your pious fashionable ass when you try to genuflect with a casket.
Third, at least make an effort to wear a halfway respectful suit. (Which, by the way, I assume you got cleaned sometime since the last Supreme Court nomination.) Save the Gary Glitter shit for the afterparty. Remember the golden rule of fashionable menswear: porkpie hats look sweet if you're in the Madness reunion tour.
Fourth, don't make a big deal about where you end up standing. You're probably not going to get an equal number of righties and southpaws. It's really not going to be that heavy. If you get six or eight guys together, you can probably lift my Thunderbird, so don't panic.
Fifth, keep your game face on unless you're absolutely certain that you are funny. My dad's cousin Pat got a laugh at my great-grandfather's funeral with the old 'struggling-under-the-weight' thing, but Pat's the kind of guy who can pull that off without looking like a total ass. I, however, am total ass material. So that's why I don't get cute.
Sixth-- and this kind of follows on #5-- you're going to have to work as a team. Try to make it look like you're kind of on the same wavelength. You'll probably have to take lots of little tiny steps while kicking the guy in front of you in the Achilles''. It's tricky, especially on stairs and if you have to make a turn.
Seventh, please try to make it look like you're not struggling under my weight. Yeah, I know, I'm not exactly Mr. Fitness, but I try to take care of myself, so don't make me look like Tubs McLardass.
Don't whistle.
Take out those damn iPod earbuds.
Don't spit out your gum in the baptismal font unless you want Father Westerhoff to kick your ass during the Mass. Do you really think anyone from my family is going to jump in there and bail you out? Speaking as a member in good standing of my family, I say No Thanks.
See if you can slip some Pogues sheet music to the organist. I like the lyric in "Streams of Whiskey" where Brendan Behan advises that it's better to drink than to cry.
And most importantly, remember this: they didn't come to see you. They came because an older relative shamed them into it. If they walk away from a funeral talking about the pallbearers, it'll be all over "Best Week Ever" in no time. Then some marginally talented b-lister will sweat under the bright lights trying to think of something funny to say about my funeral. I don't need that.
So if you follow the instructions, you're going to be the proverbial well-oiled machine. (By the way, did you get the well-oiled machine when you got the porn? Good. And hey, I don't care if you go ahead and smirk, pal, because I've already got my harp.)
If you just follow this simple advice, you'll make Tony Stewart's pit crew look like Keystone Kops.
Make me proud.