Joe Heller

Dear Dad, Well, it's been quite a year since you checked out. As it turns out, the 300 lbs of birdseed was just the tip of the iceberg. Lisette and I have gotten down and dirty, and I mean really, really dirty, clearing out your man cave and the rest of the house. We have formally evicted your four-legged friends. Junior has a new home and is living large on a diet of brine shrimp and blood worms. Many of your coveted treasures found their way back to the dump where you found them in the first place but many of them wound up in a place near and dear to your heart – helping abandoned and abused animals live a better life. We also sponsored a couple of scholarships in your honor through the Seabees so that Navy brats could have a shot at book smarts as well as street smarts. We gave your brother your hearing aids so he can't feign deafness anymore. Oddly enough, nobody wanted your organs which you readily signed up to donate. Who knew that 82-year-olds were made of such junk parts? The world stopped and took notice of you and your shenanigans last September. We put the fun in funeral and gave you the send-off you requested, Grumpy T-shirt and your now-infamous one-fingered salute to boot! I scared the crap out of a couple of unsuspecting saps when they leaned in to pay their respects and I let the remote fart machine rip. The Hartford Courant was there to cover your wake and The New York Times, yep, that's right, THE NEW YORK TIMES covered your funeral in a full-page color spread. I know, I know, it's a liberal rag, but still… Who knew that you'd have more friends posthumously than you did in life? You blew up the internet and went viral (no, you didn't catch anything, I'll explain that to you later) and were trending on Facebook, Twitter, Yahoo, Google, etc. We heard from every state in the US and all over the world - Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Russia, England, Ireland, Brazil, Italy, and on and on. I lost track of the newspapers, radio and TV stations and media outlets that picked up your obituary. Someone was so touched that he had a billboard erected with your ugly mug on it! Heck, even a local brewery is going to name a beer after you! Your story made people smile and laugh. Mission accomplished. I was on CNN and NPR thanks to you and have landed a book deal! Coming out next month. Wish you were here to criticize it and "break my stones." I know that deep, deep down under that crusty exterior, in that mashed-potato squishy heart of yours that you'd be gushing with pride. Wanna hear a kicker? Some people thought that you were the "Catch 22" Joseph Heller. I didn't correct them even though THAT Joseph Heller croaked 20 years ago! I've made lots of new friends and many have adopted the mantra, "WWJD?" Not "What Would Jesus Do" mind you, but rather, "What Would Joe Do?" Inappropriate T-shirt are being purchased and worn in your honor and harmless pranks continue to be pulled off surreptitiously in your name. A couple of your buddies have passed over, I hope you didn't take any "warm" Southern detours and that you've made it to heaven and were there to greet them. Did Mom throw up her hands when you rattled the Pearly Gates to get in? Lord knows that Lisette and I tried our darndest to help her maintain the peace and quiet she so coveted. I listen to your old voicemails all the time - demanding I buy you pickled herring and other prohibited dietary items. Dare I say that I miss your voluminous belching and farting? Thanksgiving was eerily quiet except for the squabble over your coveted drumstick. I won. Dammit, I miss you, you old coot. MON-I-Q LEHIGH PS Where the hell is the stash of cash you said you hid? Took that one to the grave, eh?