We're in the process of planning the last leg of Don's "Party Into Paradise" celebration in October in Atlanta. But for now, I'm back at our "House in the Holler" (or as Richard prefers to call it "Our Tennessee Mountain Home"). I'm one of the few people brave (or brassy) enough to cook for my newly widowed girlfriend She is, after all, the GA governor's executive chef), so we're having a mostly Cajun menu. That's what Don would have wanted, and it may be the only food I know more about than Holly does.
I like any "eat, drink and be merry" approach to life and death. Anything worth doing, is worth a few good laughs and a bit of scandal. What good does it do to get old if we still have to behave ourselves? Don's exit party provides lots of opportunities for all of the aforementioned misbehaving -- just like we'd do in New Orleans, but without the Jazz band.
I'll be mostly working from home, but intend to spend the week-ends between now and then working with Don's bevy of buddies to plan a proper production for his memorial service. After all, it's not everyone who gets to be memorialized at a governor's residence. This may also give me the opportunity to spend some time with my Atlanta girl and grandgirls.
Holly's brother is a minister and the governor is a teetotaler, so we're having the after-party at Holly's neighborhood clubhouse. Richard has signed on as a designated driver back to the hotels for all the party-hardies coming to town for the functions.
I refuse to believe that martyrdom for the sake of purging guilt is productive in entering paradise. I much prefer the belief that all our good works live on after we do, so we have to concentrate our energies on what we can do well. I happen to excel at party planning and partying. Martyrdom is okay as long it's worth the price in residual good energy created by it. I'll spend my life helping (while possibly raising a little hell) rather than hurting.
I'm very good at getting away with stuff; that's one of the reasons I love the Atkins diet. I can eat, drink, and be merry while I die(t). This is part of the Cajun survival system of working hard and playing hard, and letting the good times roll.