To Be Read At The Funeral Of Steven Damm

(To be read by any person in attendance of the funeral chosen at random via lottery number included inconspicuously on the program.)

(State your name and relation to Steve Damm.)

(Murmur the first line into the microphone and then read aloud with purpose.) Isn’t it just like Steve to choose someone like this?

Before I read this, I think you all might as well know that for six years after 2004, Steve Damm and I were lovers.

(Look up to see who laughs.  They’re laughing at you, not me.  I’m dead.)

Not true.  I assure you that we never made love.

Thank you all for coming!  Steve would have only been slightly disappointed at the turnout.  Is Chris here?  Not you, the other Chris.  Yep, I thought so, too “busy.”

We all knew this day would come.  Some of you have been praying for this day for a long time.  You know who you are, and now Steve knows too.  Keep that in mind.

Many of you came today to find out certain truths that Steve had been indicating for years and years he was keeping secret until they were revealed at his funeral…this funeral.  For instance, raise your hands if you are here to find out the true identity of a parent.  Thank you, now will all those seeking the final clue to finding the vault of uncut South African blood diamonds raise your hands.  Wow, there are a lot of you.  How about those of you looking to for the lost Dead Sea scroll that Steve claimed to have hidden near or under Safeco Field?

Well, you should know that the doors have been barred from the outside and nobody is leaving this service until Steve has been honored properly.  Also Steve wanted to make sure most of the seats were filled at his funeral, so for years he has been baiting people with these lies to ensure a good attendance.  Unfortunately none of your questions will be answered today, but feel free to stick around for the reception food.  It’s catered by Applebee’s.

Now let’s get down to business shall we?

Steve spent a fair amount of time trying to make people laugh.  He loved making people happy.  But for every up there is a down, every Yin, a Yang, and Steve Damm was no different.  Steve was incredibly funny to be certain, so as the balance of life goes, Steve had a dark side that he was ashamed to admit to anyone.

Oh, don’t worry, there aren’t any mass graves out there that Steve is responsible for.  But he did inflict pain and suffering on the world.  Primarily Steve did this through his passion for music.  When he wasn’t ruining someone’s groove on the dance floor with one of his tediously long and unimpressive drum solos, he was promoting terrible music.  How terrible?  Steve Damm was the mastermind behind Hanson, the Jonas Brothers and Justin Bieber.  Using the internet and several key identities in social media, Steve Damm found these groups and nurtured their terrible sound to the masses by marketing through mainstream media manipulation and inflated Scantron numbers.   Yes, Steve Damm did that.

Think about it.  Steve had to find the perfect balance of what could be sold to the public and pushed over airwaves and through data wires, without being so ridiculously bad, that nobody would buy it.  Something that would explode out of the gate, but with every play heard, wounds you just a little until finally the songs make you nauseous.  Incredibly difficult to organize with little permanent damage, yet widespread enough in suffering to balance out the amazing joy Steve brought to the world.

He apologizes, but remember how funny he was.

Steve was very insecure about his physical appearance.  Many of you may not know this, but Steve’s muscular design and metabolism was near “perfect.”  This deeply troubled Steve from just after college until the time of his death.  Many of you will find it hard to believe that Steve’s true outward appearance resembled a well honed middle-weight boxer.  He looked like a carved, lean statue; rippled with muscles over muscles and unblemished skin.  He struggled with body image most of his life, not believing it was fair to the rest of the world to look upon him and doubt their own, sad forms.

To make everyone else feel better and to “blend in,” Steve took to wearing incredibly lifelike fat suits of varying sizes.  They were of the highest quality, so well made and realistic that his wife Wendy didn’t even know.  Hard as it was to keep this secret from everyone, he suffered the baggy clothes over his rock hard body and porcelain hewn abdominal muscles in a conflicted silence.

You could have gazed upon his perfect body at a public viewing of him—had he not arranged for a strange cult-like organization to collect and cremate his body immediately upon his death.  I believe I was the only person to have seen it, and I assure you, it… He, was an amazing specimen.  (Really sell it.  It’s my dying wish, so do it.)

I will now read personal messages to specific people in attendance.  You know who you are.

Mom:  I don’t know why you outlived me, but I’m guessing it was an aggressive illness, or unattended spider bite.  Anyway, I love you.  Take care of Dad.

Dad:  I love you, but I never understood your fascination with Chick-O-Stix.  Take care of Mom.

Somer:  Now you have to clean out the Dad’s garage when he dies all by yourself.  Not so cool to be the executor of their estate NOW, is it?  Love you.

Wendy:  I bet you look really hot in that dress, or whatever you chose to wear.  No, you look really nice.  Great choice of boots too.  There’s a last letter for you in a safety deposit box at a bank in town, but I can’t remember the bank, box number or where I left the key.  It might not even be in this town.  I’m sorry, I’ll let you know if I remember.  I loved you and you’ll find love again…but I forbid it.

Dave:  Watch out for my family for me.  Not just on Facebook, I left you seventy-five dollars in the will to take Zach fishing a couple of times.  Don’t tell him about the stuff we used to do with fireworks.

Bill:  Thanks for coming from Alaska.  It means a lot.  By now you know the subpoena was a fake.

Lars:  I have a few un-cashed checks from selling our Ground Flower CD’s in college, you’ll probably want to cash those.

Nabil:  It would be great if you could teach Zach how to play guitar.  Also, I because you scared the crap out of me on our trip to Montana, I have decided to haunt you on one random evening when you least expect it.  Be thankful you’re not…

Colby:  Because you’re going to be haunted the rest of your life.  You scared me so badly on our canoeing trip that you’re going to be seeing things you can’t explain until you die.  But I promise many of them will be funny.

Justin:  Thanks for being such a great friend and spectacular person.  Stay the hell away from my wife.

Chris:  Who am I kidding?  You’re not here.

Todd:  You were totally right man.

Roger:  You sir, are a dick.  You’ve always been a dick.  Everyone here knows you’re a dick.  You’re a horrible person who deserves an unhappy life and I’m very pleased to have wasted several hours of your time with my funeral.

Bette:  We knew that society would never truly let us be together, no matter how much we loved each other.  I want you to understand that during those nine days in 1995 that you were the wind beneath MY wings.

Zach:  Son.  I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you all those times you needed me.  Please understand that I will always be in your heart, though in a poetic way.  Never literally try to look inside your heart for me.  You’ll die.  Please find knowledge and beauty in inside the books I have left to you.  Uncle John’s Bathroom Readers are full of great trivia and information.  I would still prefer you not touch my comic books though, because I’m unconvinced you have learned to wash your hands properly.  I love you.

Please don’t un-friend Steve on Facebook.  He promises to be popping up now and then with an interesting video or article.  He might even private message you from the beyond.  Seriously, don’t.

Steve loved trivia and Japanese poetry.  He left you to ponder this:

Three lines of poem

Five-seven-five syllables

Is not true Haiku

Enjoy the scavenger hunt of “items of personal significance to Steve.”  He says it’s a doozy.

Steve hopes you enjoyed his life as much as he did.  He never took life too seriously and I think all of you have pieced that together from your time with him.  Also, the fact that he chose to hold his funeral at a roller skate arena is a bit of a hint.  Slushies are on the house for the next fifteen minutes, followed by a procession snowball skate, starting with his widow Wendy, picking up new skaters with every lap.  The song will be Funkytown, by Lipps Inc..  Please, do not “shoot the duck.”

Lastly, Steve wishes to let you know that since his death, his ghost has seen all of you naked—some of you a few times.  He thanks you for coming.