Don't Drop the Coffin

Dear Stan and Pam,

I enclose some more material on our wonderful Douai Abbey and hope that it persuades you to make a persona visit. North Atlantic airfares and falling through the floor; one of the maverick airline owners, Mr. Ryan of Ryanair fame, is promising NY-London fares of #7 ($13) one way. What the taxes and additional charges will be is anyone's guess.

(I check, Bill, nothing on RyanAir's website except EU travel, and Northwest's cheapest is $1,107 US. - sw) (Yeah, you're right. Ryanair only do European flights at present. They were the European equivalent of South Western for dirt cheap flights; mind you, customer service and safety are also at a discount. Horror stories abound. Friends of mine have found themselves abandoned abroad without support when flights were cancelled. On one infamous emergency landing, with an engine on fire, the cabin crew didn't know how to work the emergency exits. This is hardly surprising when Ryannair staff are expected to pay for their own safety training - the cheapest English-language training is in Poland, so you can imagine the scope for misunderstanding. I am typing this from the idyllic island of Aegina, about 15 miles west of Athens. I am staying with friends in the southern suburb of Glyfada (where Jackie O's Greek in-laws have a villa). It is a 50 minute trip by hydrofoil from Piraeus to Aegina. I came here by Easyjet, the dearer but safer alternative to Ryanair. I wish Easyjet would start long-distant flights. -- Bill)

I thought you might enjoy the biography of Barry Albin-Dyer, Britain's most famous funeral director and a Catholic convert (p. 156/7). I bought the book after my Father's death in 2003, when I had to arrange his funeral, and shortly after the death of a friend who died without any traceable family. So, I ended up organizing Brian's funeral as well as my Dad's, and had considerable dealings with local funeral directors, nearly all of whom are branches of large national companies -- even though some retain the names of the local family from which was taken over by the giant company years ago.

Of course, any book on funerals could not help but be riotously funny places. But skip pages 49-74 if you are all squeamish, as he does not evade the gruesome aspects of this profession. Music at funerals is always controversial. My dad's funeral director, Carole, told me about a young widow who was arranging her 34-year old husband's funeral. She was utterly clueless, as most British people are when arranging funerals, and struggled to choose appropriate music. Eventually, she suggested Freddy Mercury's song "Who wants to live forever?"

I remember a visit to the magnificent Ely Cathedral (near Cambridge, about 80 miles North of London). The cathedral staff kept tourists out of one of the chapels while a funeral was in progress. I visited other parts o this wonderful building while speakers at the funeral droned on about the virtues of the deceased — teacher at the local grammar school, pillar of the community, etc. Then the funeral came to an end and the coffin was carried out at the head of the procession of solemn-faced mourners. The vaulted ceiling of this peerless building resonated to a recording of Ravel's Bolero -- which is a musical depiction of an orgasm. I wondered if this was a none-to-subtle hint that the dear departed was a b it of a goat in his spare time.

Barry's book contains fascinating comments on American funerals, though he omits the funniest funeral director in movies — Liberace advising a young couple on the choice of lining for their uncle's casket. The movie is "The Loved One," that parody of the American way of death which Barry Albin-Dyer detests. The unctious funeral director is counselling the young couple as to whether they want a nylon or a real silk lining for their uncle's casket. He enquires: "Your uncle was a sensitive person, was he not?" They say "Oh, yes, yes." He advises "Nylon chafes." Just imagine - you're lying in a dark box for all eternity and your neck's itching like crazy because your cheapskate nephew wouldn't fork out a few more lousy bucks for a decent lining. — Detroit gets honorable mention as a pioneering centre of cryonics.

Even Princess Diana gets into the book, though I doubt that she spent much time n S.E. London. Also, in view of the current demonstrations of Iran, p. 82 ff is interesting. (No kidding, Bill, I couldn't put the book down.) I remember the boycotting of the Iranian rebels and the portrayals of Ayatollah Khomeini as a dangerous demagogue — but the British government was quietly trading with Iran behind the scenes (and sending the Ayatollah heart specialists, I read in Barry's book - sw)

Best wishes.

Bill

(Reader: Mr. Albin-Dyer has other great books. Here are a few, including Don't Drop the Coffin 2.)