Last year, I'm fairly certain that when I said you had never been to cat funeral like this one, you believed me.
But when I say, I'm sure as shit positive you have never been to a funeral like this, there is no doubt you will believe me. If you missed the background story, please read here.
San Fermin: Nueva Orleans is usually a well-anticipated weekend for the Martini Tour. This year, I was more than melancholy as I boarded the plane that Thursday night. New Orleans was the absolute last place I wanted to be. The Bull Run was the absolute last thing I thought I wanted to do. I pondered grabbing a stiff cocktail on the plane, but after evaluating the situation, I figured it might just bring me to tears.
Dad scooped me up from the airport and took me to meet up with Mom, Molly and Larry for a dinner at Jacques-Imo's {J-Dawg's namesake.}
In the car on the way home from the restaurant, we all agreed this was going to be a fun but very tough weekend.
Mom started reminiscing on one of her favorite Donald memories: their visit to the Dallas Zoo. Mom and Daddy both agree this may be their hardest Donald-induced laughing fits, as he casually commented on some of the exhibits, particularly the gorilla habitat.
Right as Mom was coming in for the punch line, a story Larry had yet to hear, we look over to find two guys laughing hysterically in their car. We look closer and realize they have a 3-foot stuffed gorilla riding, or shall I say dancing, on the top of the car.
In the middle of Canal Street.
That sent us into another bit of laughter and we knew that was Donald letting us know it was all okay. From that point forward, we were comforted by the fact that he just wanted us to have fun and enjoy the weekend.
And what fun we had!
Around the lunch hour on Friday, a party bus picked the crew up and we headed to the north shore to celebrate Don's life with some of his other childhood friends and family. I'd say about 75 people turned out for a fabulous cocktail hour. We shared stories. We laughed and we cried. We thanked Don for the contributions he made to each of our lives.
{I’d also like to thank Don for two additional things he just taught me, which I learned after watching my speech.
1. Holy humidity! I need to get my weave cut.
2. I should not laugh with my shoulders as George Dubya does…}
6:30AM rally call on Saturday morning for us to meet up with the Martini Tour Executives and offer up 'Donald' to the San Fermin administration. There they placed him on the statue and we began our funeral procession.
As unconventional as this 'funeral' weekend was, I will say I did tear up a bit as we fell in behind the pallbearers. The beats of the drum, the realization that this was the weekend that had been in the works for weeks, knowing that he would soon be presented to a crowd of thousands...
It hit me!
So I took a drink.
Lawd have mercy was that a good bloody mary!
I could feel the red juice lining my upper lip and had to chuckle a bit. I could just picture Uncle Don and his red-stained 5:00 shadow.
The opening ceremony couldn't have been any more perfect for what we were trying to do. When Dad got in touch with the executor of the Bull Run and he agreed to pay a tribute to Uncle Don, I don't think any of us could have imagined how cool it really turned out to be. Essentially, we can say that ten thousand people attended his funeral!
Post-run, we headed to a local bar to grab a few more cocktails and then moved over to Mother’s for a gut-busting Ferdie PoBoy.
Whew – naptime!
We regrouped at St. Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square for 5:00 Mass. Sitting in a church is when things became very real and the emotions were let loose.
As we exited out the front doors after Mass had ended, we were greeted by this dude and his posse.
Can someone give me an AMEN up in herruh?!?
Who’s ready to second line?
To Pat O’s we will geaux. Here’s to you, Donny Boy!
This is it people. This shows it all. True, gut-wrenching emotion of every sort. From pure happiness to silly jokes to deep sorrow. All in the name of our love for Donald Robert Hanemann.
{Disclaimer: While walking backwards and trying to not get run over by a car, and while trying to sip my drink and then while I was a bit emotional, I may or may not have cut off some heads a few time while filming. Whatever.}
Sunday was a long drive home. A somber cloud seemed to just hang over us. …Until in the middle of absolute Nowhereville, Louisiana, we passed a giant inflatable gorilla on the side of the road.
We were then at peace.
God Bless You, Donald!
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