Handcrafted Silver Urns

The National Funeral Directors' Convention continues to amaze. This is my third year and in some ways I am getting used to it. I hardly notice the playing of "Taps" throughout the day, the mongo Escalade hearses, the airbrush make-up displays, and the tragically small caskets. I should get counseling for getting accustomed to all that.



Instead, I spend my energy seeking out the items and services that I think are most likely to be attractive to Unitarian Universalists at large, my congregation specifically, and the random funeral service groupie who might find their way to the blog.



This year, let's start with urns. Every year I pick a favorite urn style since my(our) religion cremates in way higher numbers than the general population. Usually I pick something eco-conscious or of unique construction. This year, I went for a more simple concept: stunning, jaw-dropping beauty.

These photos do not begin to capture the beauty and craftsmanship of these urns from the fine artisans of Lasper Imperial Urns. I had the pleasure of meeting with the designer, JP Lascurain, who explained the design, creation, variation, and properties of these urns. Sadly for you, he did so in a lilting, hypnotic Hispanic accent which made it hard to focus on utilitarian ash receptacles. Their booth felt more like being in a very upscale jewelry store without the attitude.



What I caught when I wasn't dreaming of the magic of Mexico was that JP comes from a long line of silversmiths. These urns are the visible and tactile expression of his family legacy. They come in sterling silver and the more cost-conscious brass nickel plate. Both are very attractive but, naturally, the sterling looks like it should be in a museum while the brass nickel just looks like it would be the best looking thing in my home by far. Then again, a sterling urn costs what you would imagine (over three thousand dollars) while the nickel is quite affordable.



The urn shapes that were most eye-catching to me were the Chalice (or was it just the name that attracted me) and the Classique. They are available with different little notches on top that ranged from simple to ornate, and will also be available soon in keepsake size.



What is keepsake size? You sure you want to know? OK - should this get uncomfortable, imagine a beautiful Hispanic accent. The keepsake size is for children, pets, or when the remains are split among various family members. (Don't look at me like that. You asked.) With the general feeling of hanging around Sr. Lascurain, I think you could also use the keepsake size for jewelry if its real purpose is bugging you.



These are not your usual urn, nor are they like the urns I am generally attracted to, but they are so beautifully designed, so stunningly hand produced, so striking in their appearance (shiny almost to the point of being mirrors, and the effect of seeing your own face in your loved ones urn was intriguing to me)... I could not resist them. Needless to say, these are for people who do not want to bury the ashes, and people who are comfortable with an urn that will invite constant comment in their home.

Here are JP and Sergio in front of their display poster. Please check them out at their website. I told them you would be coming, so they'll be waiting for you. And even though they are not on the website, they have some drop dead beautiful necklaces. Sorry. That wasn't meant to be a sick joke. Very pretty. The necklaces are very pretty.

In an unrelated observation, JP on the left is also in the top spot for being the best-dressed man at the convention. How I got out of that booth without finding myself $3000 poorer is a mystery.

Orlando - More Fun with Funeral Conventions

On my way with my wee daughter to have some family and work fun in Orlando. No, we are not doing Disney. She's 3 and can entertain herself for an hour with an acorn. Why mess with a good thing?

We will be doing everyone's favorite Auspicious Jots activity - the National Funeral Directors' Convention. Woo hoo!

My spies are already in place and they say the unstated theme this year is GREEN. As you know, I am the green burial maven so I say the more green the better.

Will be blogging from the convention again this year. Send comments to this post if you want me to look for anything in particular. After all, how many people do YOU know who go to this convention?

Top 40 Under 40?

Have you ever been given a sincere compliment that ended up harming you more like an insult? It is a weird situation.

I was incredibly honored and excited to be recognized by a local weekly magazine for being one of what they call the "Top 40 under 40." This is a yearly listing they do. It is an honor for the lifelong Richmonder like myself and exciting to be affirmed publicly in a profession that is not generally recognized in this way.

The other 39 recipients of the distinction are a wide variety of advocates, public servants, business people, and interesting Richmonders. Reading through their accomplishments put me in awe. It is humbling to be in company like that.

The description that went beside the world's most flattering photograph of me, though, is unintentionally misleading. I recognize that I am a bit of a character. I boogie to the beat of my own drummer while most people are marching to theirs. I don't make conventional choices in very public ways. I can also be disarmingly blunt and honest. I think it was a combination of these personal characteristics exhibited in the interview that led to a profile that has become accidentally controversial.

The problem is that even though I am all of those things, most of my life is spent in small conversations with individuals and small groups as we try to make sense out of life's curve balls. That is how I am known by the people I serve. It's not print-worthy, however, and my unconventional side, though less frequently exhibited, evidently merits some ink.

I thought I knew how I felt about the profile: disappointed, hurt, confused. I felt like small aspects of my personality were caricatured and used to overshadow the hard, unceasing work of ministry. I wondered if they didn't know how to talk about my main ministerial interest -death and dying - so they went off on a tangent. But then I met with the editor and reporter today, and now I am really lost.

In their world, this was a compliment. In their world, my tendency to say exactly what I am thinking is a great thing. In their world, my willingness to reach out in unexpected ways is a gift. In their world, they portrayed me as straight talking, empathetic and approachable and are now bewildered that this has caused anything but celebration. Honestly, they said more kind things to me this afternoon than I am accustomed to hearing. If I had a fan club, the reporter would be secretary.

So now what? I am used to living with the thousand gradations of gray, but this is a little murky even for me. My family is upset. My friends are feeling the need to defend me. My congregation is wondering what planet the profile came from. (The planet is Richmond. Don't forget that we have our own galaxy.) Meanwhile the magazine people have been nothing but kind and apologetic, albeit perplexed.

If a ministry in death and dying teaches one anything, it is to get over anything that is not terminal. Since I can't even figure out if I'm wounded, I'm moving along. I won an award, there's one awesome photo of me, and my fan club has a secretary. Yay.

The Evening News

Today's breaking news...

First from my sainted mother: "A van parked next to me at my mother’s day care recently had this written on the side:

Temple Image Paternity and Infidelity DNA Specialists
For a reflection of the truth

For what it’s worth, it had a wheelchair lift."

Now there's a joke here my mama isn't saying. I'm not sure how the joke reads but it probably involves viagara, alzheimer's, a paternity test and a punchline along the lines of... "But she can't remember."

Not that I would ever tell a joke like that.

This just in from the parking lot: My poor and formerly sweet, Alzheimer's plagued grandma cussed me out in the church parking lot yesterday. This morning she was really glad to see me and wants to go to the State Fair with me. The one good thing about Alzheimer's - moods can be forgotten. God bless that gal.

And speaking of the State Fair, I just saw on CNN that my son won 5 ribbons in the youth arts and crafts competition. Neil Cavudo (sp?) of Fox Business will be doing a 25 minute in depth interview this afternoon. Senator Barack Obama has decided to put his campaign on hold and come to the Miles family ribbon celebration in the living room this evening.

Auspicious Jots - keeping you hip to what's hot, baby.

Fresh-faced Global Ripple Effect

It occurs to me that conspiracy theorists may be onto something.

I am multitasking in a coffee shop. The men beside me have determined that the war in Iraq and the "imminent economic collapse of America" are part of Presiden't Bush's rabid xenophobic plan to eradicate immigration. "Mexico is looking mighty nice now, isn't it?" one just asked the other. They appear to be drinking Sumatra.

I'm a steamer gal. All milk, no coffee. I thought this made me immune to conspiracy theories. I just arched my eyebrow at the guys next table. However, I have come to a theory concerning my religion, Unitarian Universalism.

The greatest untapped vein of potential UUs are the vast unchurched. Depending on which poll, study, or worldview theorists cite - predictions are that the UU numbers could double or quadruple if we could just introduce unchurched America to our commensurate beliefs. So why is this not happening?

I'll leave the rational discussion and well-thought-out arguments to the other UU bloggers. Somebody spiked my steamer this AM, so I'm going out on a limb. It's the cosmetic companies. They have bonded together in a secret conglomerate united by their need to keep the UUs down.

Evidence? Refute this, baby.

I had my portrait made yesterday by a professional photog. (I'll reveal why in a future entry.) In preparation for this event I realized I needed to wear makeup. It's gotten to the point where the need to wear makeup is so rare it causes the need to buy makeup. My so-called friends called for two days in feigned worry on my behalf.

My hair artist: "Sweetie, shouldn't you have someone with some training apply that stuff?"

From a male funeral director: "Let me do that for you, hon. I have a lot more experience in the handling of cosmetics than you do."

Weenies.

I will admit to calling the photographer and asking him to please hurry up for our appointment. "Dude, I'm wearing eyeliner here." But I can put on makeup. I got married, didn't I?

After the shoot (Lizard Eater, cue "Girls on Film" here) I went through the rest of my work day. At the church supper I showed everyone the makeup. (It was like having a baby dinosaur in my hand. Oooohhhh. Aaaaaah!) and this was the first hint of the conspiracy.

As lovely UU woman after lovely UU woman bent her face to look into mine I noticed... not a jot of make-up on them. In four hours I spotted only four women in make-up and I really had to look for it. There are six other women in the coffee shop right now. Four of them are in make-up. The other two are this chick with the computer and steamer, and the UU gal behind the counter who is one of the reasons I like coming here.

Let's do some math, my fellow conpiratheorists. If 600,000 more Americans became UU, over 300,000 would be women. If 250,000 of them decided to stop wearing make-up... it could start a fresh-faced global ripple effect the likes of which has not been seen since the eighties ended and men stopped wearing eyeliner to the grocery store. Imagine the losses. Only Aveda would come out unscathed. (I seriously doubt Aveda is in on this. My steamer is not strong enough for me to cast my suspicious eye on them.)

Not evidence enough? In order to have the make-up I accidentally went to the headquarters of the cosmetic conspiracy: Sephora. I like Sephora. The lipstick tastes like raspberry gum. (Conspiracy!) As I was picking out the necessary paints and crayons I got a sudden uneasy feeling. I was being watched.

"Can I help you?" she asks oh-so-sweetly. "I'm good," I nervously reply.

A few moments later she silently swoops in. "Are you finding everything ok?"

I look at her face. Perfect arched brows. Lovely lashes. Pink lips and expertly applied eye hues. Then there's the fact that she seems to be genuinely helpful. A helpful sales person in a Richmond, VA mall? Something is not right here.

She smiles and blinks once. Aha! Conspiracy. In that perfect blink all is revealed. Not only are they out to get the UUs. They are using defense industry technology. I watch "Sarah Connor Chronicles." I know a robot when I see one.

Stay alert, UUs. Now that we are onto them - who knows what they will do to retaliate? But I am ready for the battle. Once I get my steamer refilled.