Neither of us heard the alarm clock because we had drank too much wine and stayed up late the night before watching old reruns of "Mission Impossible." Viewing the examples of perfectly executed missions increased our intoxicated bravado but didn't manage to dispel our misgivings toward the crime that we are about to commit. Cloaked in pre-dawn darkness we move self-righteously onward, stubbornly adhering to our shared belief that some laws are meant to be broken.
"Hell, laws are made and then changed all the time – remember prohibition? Well I do. Now get your head out of your ass and move it!"
Without washing my face, I jump into yesterday's clothes, pop a couple aspirin, snag my darkest sunglasses, and fill a paper bag with the two dozen yellow tulips. The van is filled with a tense silence as we head for the scene of our crime; careful to obey the posted limits. While merging onto the freeway, my partner discloses that he has "accidentally" left all his identification at home. Selective memory? We slough it off, down more hot coffee, and return to our own introspective thoughts as the sun rises.
"It doesn't surprise me that you're still searching for your identity. Are those drugs you took in the Sixties still making you act like a fool? Listen. Just put the petal to metal and pass that jackass in front of you!"
After what seems like an endless ride, we can see the ocean, and traffic thins out. We take this as a good omen. The sun still low on the horizon, we arrive at the scene of our crime and warily observe two gray haired maintenance guys mechanically cleaning the wood outhouse nearby. As we exit the van, my bag of tulips seems to flash neon yellow and scream "Criminals!" I stuff them further down inside the paper bag, mutter "Shhh!" and begin walking. I know I’ve spoken out loud when my accomplice looks at me, eyebrows raised. Adopting a forced air of nonchalance, we mosey down the sandy trail to the beach. It is an Oscar winning performance worthy of gold plated handcuffs if we are caught.
"Hey you two, do you know how guilty you look? You haven't done anything yet, and those two janitors only care about getting the smell of shit out of their noses."
|*Disposition of Cremated Remains
"In California, you may choose any of the following methods of disposition of cremated remains:
* Placement in a columbarium or mausoleum - There may be additional charges for endowment care, opening or closing, recording, flower vase, and nameplate
* Burial in a plot in a cemetery - There may be additional charges for endowment care, opening or closing, recording, outer burial container, flower vase, and marker
* Retention at a residence - The funeral establishment or crematory will have you sign the Permit for Disposition showing that the remains were released to you and will file it with the local registrar of births and deaths. You may not remove the cremated remains from the container and you must arrange for their disposition upon your death
* Storing in a house of worship or religious shrine if local zoning laws allow
* Scattering in areas of the state where no local prohibition exists and with written permission of the property owner or governing agency. The cremated remains must be removed from the container and scattered in a manner so they are not distinguishable to the public
* Scattering in a cemetery scattering garden; or
* Scattering at sea, at least 500 yards from shore (this also includes inland navigable waters, except for lakes and streams)
Cremated remains may not be transported without a permit from the county health department and they may not be disposed of in refuse. "
More information at this website: http://www.cfb.ca.gov/funeral.htm#legal