Local man, Martin Shuttlecock, still in a state of mourning following the death of his father last week, today described how he visited a funeral director in order to make arrangements for the impending cremation.
"I went to the registraer's office yesterday to register the death," Shuttlecock said. "They give you a green sheet which confirms certification of death, and grants legal permission for the funeral director to proceed with the interment."
Armed with the green sheet and a Death Certificate, Shuttlecock, accompanied by long-suffering wife Anne, went to see the funeral director at his office at the appointed time.
"We were led into a room, which kind of resembled somebody's living room, but without a telly," Shuttlecock explained. "I suppose it was a bit sombre really - but then again, it is a funeral director's, so I suppose I should have expected that."
Presently the funeral director appeared, and introductions were made, and some forms were filled out and signed. Then came the strange part. Shuttlecock takes up the story:
"The funeral director bloke asked me if my Dad was religious, and if he'd like a minister. I told him that my dad was a Christian, but not really a churchgoer. We agreed that a Christian minister would be appropriate, but the rest of it was a bit awkward, really.
"See, me dad, right - he always used to say to me that when he died, we could string him up out the back; 'And let the fucking birds peck me for all I care.'
"He was never really one for wasting hard earned money on stuff like coffins and flowers, so I thought it best to keep things basic. It's what he would have wanted.
"Then we got onto music...what kind of music did he like? Well, he didn't much care for music, to be honest. He liked Elgar's 'Pomp And Circumstance' a bit, and The Dam Busters March and 633 Squadron, and I remember he once bought a Glenn Miller record, but he never seemed all that keen on music, to be honest. So we sort of agreed on a bit of Glenn Miller, to be going on with. Unless somebody thought of something else between now and the service.
"Would I like him dressed in a suit? He never really liked suits either. Only ever wore them for weddings and funerals, and then under sufferance, which is a bit ironic, considering. He did once have a cream coloured raincoat that made him look a bit like Inspector Clouseau, but you can't really cremate somebody in a raincoat...it wouldn't be right. So we settled on a shroud. Mind you, he did like clogs...
"Did he like sports? Did he have a favourite football team? Not really. Me mam was a United fan, but he didn't like sports. He used to describe football as 'twenty two blokes running about a bit, kicking a pig's bladder about.'
"He did like wrestling. Back in the days of Les Kellet and Mick McManus. He used to call Johnny Kwango 'Johnny Twango.'
But these days wrestling doesn't count as a sport. Be a bit weird if a Kendo Nagasaki lookalike popped up at the service...
"There's more...but maybe that's for another day..."
If we get it.