I’ve always been attracted to graveyards. There’s no better place to paint, sketch or write than the peaceful quietness of a graveyard. It’s one of the few places still left where someone can go and relax without interferences from the rest of the living human race. I once lived in a city called Lakeville in Massachusetts and for many years I was known far and wide by the police departments and many citizens as someone who was consistently haunting local graveyards. In the Plymouth area there are still tombstones from the 1600’s with some truly bizarre epithets and poetry. I just takes a little time and dedication to find them. Todays post will contain what some people would consider morbid information and that’s true, it is a little morbid but it’s still interesting. Being the kind and generous soul that I am, I’m willing to share.
😵😵😵
“Haircut!” Last words of famous gangster Albert Anastasia in 1957 while getting a trim.
“Smite my womb.” Spoken by Agrippina, mother of Nero, to the assassins sent to kill her by her son.
“The strongest.” Uttered by Alexander the Great when asked who should succeed him.
“The executioner is, I believe, an expert . . . and my neck is very slender. Oh God, have pity on my soul, . . . ” as she was beheaded.
“I hope so.” Stated by Andrew Carnegie, steel magnet and philanthropist, to his wife who’d just wished him a good night:
Epithets
Burlington, Massachusetts
Sacred to the memory of Anthony Drake,
Who died for peace and quietness sake;
His wife was constantly scolding and scoffin’,
So he sought for repose in a twelve dollar coffin.
Any day that starts with a visit to an Oncologist is a day that has to get better. Doctors still give me the willies even after all of my cancer related BS. I got a clean bill of health but I still have to go through their annoying little requirements each time I visit. Screw it, no more doctors talk. Let’s smile just a little with a few retro bumper stickers to get started today. Welcome back to the 60’s and 70’s.
EAT YOUR HEART OUT. I’M MARRIED.
LIFE’S TO SHORT TO FEEL GUILTY
BUMPER STICKERS ARE JUST NOT ENOUGH
I’M SO BROKE I CAN’T EVEN PAY ATTENTION
GOD IS COMING AND SHE’S PISSED OFF
Look Out Ladies – Here I come.
I think I had one or two of those on my 1973 orange Gremlin. I sure miss that car. And just for the hell of it here is a rather lengthy epithet from a fine poet in Wolverhampton, Straffordshire, England. I’m guessing this was written sometime between 1845-1855. It’s obvious that the author was no Longfellow.
Over the years I spent a great deal of time roaming through graveyards in New England and elsewhere. I’ve always found them to be very quiet and calming. I also discovered that the older the tombstones the more interesting are the epithets. Here are a few you might get a kick out of.