nobody asked…

Growing up in the late ’50s and ’60s in rural West Tennessee, kids rushed home from school to watch the Cousin Tuny Show that aired on WDXI-TV Channel 7, from Jackson, West Tennessee’s first CBS affiliate. Cousin Tuny was a character that looked like a cross of Minnie Pearl and a crazed escapee from Western State Asylum. She hosted groups of children on the show, teaching valuable lessons and values. Parents, churches, and schools could schedule to take their young ‘uns to appear on Cousin Tuny, and for those small tykes it was a thrill like no other.

My little brother was one of those lucky kiddos who had the opportunity to be on the Cousin Tuny Show. As she made the rounds of the kids sitting around her on stage, she came to him and asked, “What is your name, young man?”

“David”

“And how old are you, David?”

“Six.”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“An undertaker.”

With that, Cousin Tuny almost fell off her chair. Choking back the cackles she tried so hard to keep bottled up, she eventually regained composure. She was accustomed to hearing the usual answers of cowboy, policeman, and fireman, but allowed that this was the first time she had ever heard one of her kids say they want to be an undertaker. I was not there, but Mama said she had never heard him say that before, and was shocked (read: embarrassed) that it came out on TV for the whole world to hear. We all got a good laugh out of it — all except David. He was dead serious and his six-year old mind could not grasp why everybody thought it so funny.

As the years passed, the incident faded from memory. David grew up, got married, bought a house, and had the requisite two children of his own. He recently retired after 30 years with the same company, working in shipping. He loved driving that forktruck. So much so that he turned down opportunities to move into the air-conditioned offices or have a change of pace with easier jobs in the plant.

Soon after he retired, he called me one day to say he had a new job. I asked him why he didn’t just kick back and enjoy the fruits of his long years of work, at least for a little while. He said it was a job that suited him just fine, that the hours were good, working only occasionally, not a full-time job. The pay was not that great, but he got to work with people and had a lot of flexibility.

Finally, David fessed up that he was working at the local funeral home. As the words cleared his lips, I had a flashback to his revelation on the Cousin Tuny Show, and started laughing. Many long seconds passed before I regained my poise and could tell him why I was laughing, reminding him of his childhood dream of becoming an undertaker. He chuckled and said no, that he wasn’t really working back there, in the undertaking department. His job is to receive the flower arrangements as they are delivered by the florists, properly arrange and manage them until ready for removal to a church or to graveside, and then to manage the transportation and setup at the destination. They call him a few times a week when needed.

Few of us get to fulfill our naive childhood dreams and fantasies. David did, and he seems to be blossoming on the job.