CONCLUSION.

The Chronicles of Depression are complete.

The comic was late for a reason that I will explain now. I explain it to you now not as an attempt to gain your pity. I don't want anyone to tell me "I'm so sorry this thing happened and that you had to do this." I want to tell you because it's funny.

April Ninth was the four year anniversary of the death of one William Andrew Tolson I. I spent the surrounding days away from my bullshit mountain estate so I could go visit his grave. This was a mostly painless journey (As painless as spending an hour talking to a slab of granite can be) except for one moment that would have upset me had I not seen the humor in it.

We walked into the main building of the cemetery to get the exact location of the grave. I was greeted by an old woman with dyed red hair and pin covered cardigan. Her shirt bore an image of cats and balloons surrounding the garish red plea: "God, Help me hold on."

"Are you looking for a loved one?" she creaked in a consoling tone that she must use with everyone who enters.
"I am." I said.
"Alright. let's go over here."

She lead me to a touch-screen computer kiosk designed to help the bereaved find the final resting places of their loved ones. The ATM of the Dead. All day spitting out custom maps instead of twenty dollar bills. I made my withdrawal.

"This machine makes things easy." she said.

Yes, this machine makes it easy. Very easy. The ATM of the Dead makes losing my Dad a tiptoe through the freaking tulips. How good of them to install this crude cold monolith to help me deal with all the pain of losing a family member.

When my children are born I'll know to introduce them to the grave locator kiosk. I'm sure that'll be easy too.


Another amusing thing from that day I'll share with you now. On my schedule for the day in question I had made two entries.

1. Visit Dad's grave.
2. Ride a Vespa!

The Vespa owner didn't show up for our appointment. Disappointment Double-Whammy!

P.S. I should also point out that it was on this day that I had my first vin-dit (Defined as "A sudden, very personal shove in the direction of Bokononism.")