All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go…
Bring me étouffée and gumbo!
T-14 hours until Beverly Goldenstein boards a plane for the Crescent City.
It’s worth noting that Bev’s birthday is Sunday, and will be celebrated in the city that she considers her spirit animal.
Preliminary calculations indicate:
*Best case scenario: Wheelchair
*Worst case scenario: Above ground grave.
It is also worth noting that the worst case scenario here is not at all the worst case scenario. Bev truly wants to be buried in an above-ground grave in New Orleans. Many of you know this, but I’m adding it here, so that if/when I do die, you can convince Mama Goldenstein that I’m serious, and make this pipe dream a reality. (My sister played a cruel joke on me tonight by telling me that she told Mama G about this blog. If that would’ve been true, I’d already be 6 feet under in Mayberry.)
In addition to having my gravesite picked out, I have also written my own epitaph. I wish for my inscription to read:
“Here lies Bev. She loved bevs.”
WHO DAT?
-Bev
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