Thursday, July 31, 2008

"Grandpa's Secret Hobby"

Thank you all for coming. Peter would have appreciated this. Peter Loramie was a great friend of mine and his passing has touched us all. He was a loving and devoted father, grandfather, brother, son, and friend. He worked with me for twenty years at Robinson and Co. Insurance, but we beyond being coworkers, he was always there for me whenever I needed him. He was the nicest man I ever knew and always was the first to suggest helping others in place of himself. We all mourn our loss. Before I finish, a few months ago Peter asked me to read a poem of his at the funeral. He knew his days were numbered and wanted to relive the best times of his life. Here is the poem, titled “Murdering Homeless People for Sport.”

Back in nineteen sixty-two

There wasn’t a thing more fun to do

Than get some friends into the car

And drive real fast, and very far

We’d cruise to the city, in downtown

And look to see who was around

We had our tools: a club and bat

We'd search to see where the tramps were at

They usually stood at a trash can fire

From far away we’d look and admire

“I want the tall one,” said my friend Ted

“I’m going to bash in his head”

They would run, scared out of their pants

While we would laugh and do a dance

My favorite tool was a medieval mace

I used it to get them in the face

When the job was done, I had to smile

I hadn’t had that much fun in a while

To think of those deaths is a little sad

But it was still the best time I ever had

Now here I lay, dead as well

Maybe those hoboes will beat me up

When I see them in Hell

Wow. I don’t think anyone expected that. I…You know…I…Wow. This, uh… I suppose this explains his medieval mace.

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