The NASCAR funeral

In the last six months, I’ve lost two uncles (Bill and Ken). Granted I am not fifteen anymore, so my relatives are pushing sixties and seventies. My family is large with 10 blood related uncles and aunts (plus their 10 spouses and 35 children), so it makes for crowded gatherings. Even with all the faces, everyone still holds a memory for me. Here is one memory that would be a shame to forget.
I went home to visit over the summer. The week after I returned, my mother told me her brother had last his battle with colon cancer. I asked for the funeral information so I could make the travel arrangements. Four days later, I called home since I hadn’t heard word yet (and you would think he would be getting ripe huh). Well he apparently put a clause in his will to be buried on a Sunday…a NASCAR Sunday. Yeah we all knew he loved rebuilding classic cars but I had no idea he was that big of a NASCAR fan. He died on a Monday, and the Sunday immediately following was not a NASCAR Sunday. Therefore we waited almost two weeks for the funeral. Oh boy was it worth the wait…
He had a great sense of humor, but the funeral was held at a bar in lieu of a funeral parlor. And the bar’s name was “The Last Hurrah”. Seriously I am not kidding. The bar was a place he frequented to watch car races and the décor was a mix of beer neon signs and inflatable NASCAR stock cars hanging from the ceiling. Outside they parked a few of the classic cars he had rebuilt over the years. I half expected them to wheel out the coffin with all sorts of sponsorship decals covering it.
Okay I sound insensitive, but I did have a great time at my first (and only) NASCAR funeral, and I think Uncle Bill wanted it that way.