Obituaries, a vet visit, and a good dinner

Haute cuisine in the cottage

Not too long ago, the obituary writer was a respected member of any newspaper’s staff. It takes talent, skill, and practice to condense a life into a few, meaningful paragraphs. These days, obituaries are syndicated, expensive, and in some cases a scam that can trap you into an endless cycle of intrusive emails. I learned these lessons the hard way. To begin with, the obit for my brother, John Peckham, in the Star-Telegram cost almost $3/word. We shortened and shortened, leaving out what we thought were some of his major accomplishments as well as some of the tidbits that made him a fascinating person. It seems you don’t really contract with your local paper but with a national company called Legacy, Inc. Since we were writing it ourselves, I never explored the options for help from either the newspaper or the national company.

The first problem came when we wanted an estimate. My niece, burdened with much on her mind, asked if I would get that. The only way to do it was to fill out the form, so pretty soon it looked like before they gave me an estimate I would have to guarantee payment. I couldn’t do it in her name because I didn’t know if she subscribes to the paper and that’s apparently a requirement. I did finally get a rough cost, and she took over. The obituary appeared as scheduled and looked fine—a bit bare bones and short, but okay. Jenn had added at the bottom the location of a small celebration of life.

Days later I wanted to verify the proper name of that location to share with a friend. Couldn’t find the obituary, so I clicked on one of those “find anyone” sites that came up when I asked to find an obit, filled in John’s information, and waited. I never did get the information, but I was somehow signed up for something called Truth Finder which offered, for a fee, to dig up all kinds of information about John, including previous arrests for assault and similar unsavory tidbits. He was by no means an angel all his life, but I thought that was stretching it a bit.

That site never did find what I needed, and I found it elsewhere. But now I get constant reminders, two at a time—Am I still looking for John? Would I like to bring John back into my life? And similar inanities. These “reminders” appear, large, in the corner of my screen so they cannot be ignored. You must click on them and then close out to get them to go away. There is no unsubscribe button, which I suspect is illegal. They’re not on Facebook, so I can’t block them, and I’m not tech savvy enough to know how to make them go away. Among other reasons why it’s so wrong, it’s an insult to grieving families.

While I’m at it, another internet complaint: this is aimed at various Democratic fund-raising branches. Republicans are probably just as bad, but I only occasionally hear from them, and I respond with an instant, “Stop!” or unsubscribe. But Democrats complain all the time that I have not confirmed I will vote for Biden—when clearly I have. There is apparently little or no coordination between sites—even though Act Blue is supposed to be a clearinghouse. They appoint me to focus groups and choose me as one of a select group to represent my city or county or they beg for m valuable input on a poll. Turns out the poll questions could be answered by a five-year-old with good sense, and inevitably they lead to a plea for me to pledge a good-sized monthly amount. I think one reason they don’t well in polling is because so many, like me, get turned off by these inane, repetitious emails and refuse to answer. Somewhere, someone smart about marketing, must think this works, but it beats me. I long for the days of Lincoln, when campaigning was considered beneath a candidate.

On a brighter note, Benji went to the vet yesterday. He, who is wild Indian and totally untrained on the leash, behaved like an angel and captivated the vet’s staff. He had been to his Humane Society vet (because he was a rescue) just a couple of weeks before we got him, but we wanted the family vet to know him—we have been taking dogs to University Animal Hospital since the mid- to late sixties. Dr. Minnerly pronounced him fit, said he is smart, and suggested some training ideas. Of the barking which worries me, he said, “At the end of the day, he’s a dog, and dogs bark.”

And last night, despite my curtailed eating habits, I fixed a smashing dinner for Mary V.: sour cream, smoked salmon, pickled cucumbers and onion, and capers on puff pastry. The pastry puffed so high I almost didn’t know what to do with it and ended poking the air out of it with a fork before adding the toppings. We enjoyed it, and I had my leftovers for lunch today. Smoked salmon goes on the list of foods I can eat with ease.

Happy Friday, everyone. Hope you have big plans for the weekend, if that suits you, or else look forward to a quiet day with a book and a chair in the sun. It’s supposed to be sunny, comfortable temperature, and pleasant in North Texas. Hope for you too, wherever you are.