User blog:Spikewitwicky/March 18th, 2016 - Spike's Journal Entry



Well, I'm officially a space explorer. I mean, I will be... when I'm gone. So, yesterday, I needed to get some funeral stuff done for dad. For stuff like this, you have to get dad on a good day, so whenever something like a will or 'arrangements' come up, it can be HIS decision when he's of sound mind.

Well, obviously, funeral stuff is a tricky thing to talk to your dad about. On a bad day,  when he's despondent and paranoid, he's thinking Buster and I waiting for him to kick off. So, yesterday, I took a cue from Prime 's leadership style... don't ask your people to do something that you're not willing to do yourself. So, I drafted up my own funeral wishes - not the cheeriest father-son bonding experience, but far better to get this stuff done now while both of us are here and of sound mind.

So, I had him sign my wishes. And I signed his. So, when that inevitable day comes, I will experience a "Cybertronian funeral" - in that I'll be transported to Cybertron, put into a ceremonial bearer, and shot into space. Sort of like Gene Roddenberry style. I love the idea of being on "one last adventure" when I expire. Basically, I will be floating in space either forever, or until a.) my craft crashes on a planet, b.) it burns up in a sun, or c.) it gets picked up by another species. If the latter happens, awesome - donate my body to science. However, Prime and I agreed that little to no information would be in my craft, aside for whatever my kids want to have with me. The reasoning is pretty pragmatic - like Earth, I have this belief that most of us, and most beings in the universe are essentially "good." But there are factions like Decepticons. And there could be species that are actually worse. So, no use in giving away our home address if they're a race that's bent on enslavement. As Prime said, the chances of that happening are extremely slim (most likely, I'll just be floating in space forever) - but even a remote chance of that happening would not be something he (or I) would want on me. Prime said, like other Autobots who have passed (like Alpha Trion) - a log will be in the bearer that is supposed to be accessible to many different species, in that log will be coordinates to an uninhabited planet that the Autobots monitor occasionally. If another species does make contact, it'll be far away from Cybertron or Earth, so the 'bots can "vet" said species. But again, that chance is like 1 in a billion. Still, it's an honor to be part of this.

Dad has the honor too. I was 85 percent sure he wouldn't take it. He still has that adventerous side to him, but I know where his heart ultimately lies. He wants to be back with mom. And now it's official, for all to see.

So, the 'hard stuff' is done. His will/funeral arrangements are done. Mine are as well. And we made a pact, with the help of Helperbot. All of us vowed to live through 2016. I know it's a futile vow, but he (dad) seemed genuinely committed to it. We're going to take it easy today and watch the NCAA games. My bracket took a ding yesterday (thank you, Baylor). Dad joked that Buster could join us, but he couldn't wander off in a book.

So, Buster will go back home tomorrow. After the health scare last week, it looks like dad's stable. Buster was thinking of taking a sabbatical from college to be with dad. But after being a professor for only a year...that's a risky move. Especially mid-semester. But thankfully, it looks like dad's healthy enough for Buster to go back and finish finals for the classes he teaches.

Speaking of Buster. Wow...what a makeover. Last year, he had his typical "jeans and t-shirt" garb. When he arrived, he looked like a professor, with the tweed, and the 'college lecture' like attire. Jesse had to have some role in that. I'm assuming her train of thought was "you act the part, it's time to start looking the part." When he last came, I think he brought shampoo, toothpaste, and hair stuff. Now, he has all of this skin conditioner, beard-maintenance stuff. He's turning into a hipster. But that's expected when you teach at the University of Oregon.