I had heard from a couple of  bartcop.com  readers that they might be at the services,
 and perhaps we could finally meet.  I discouraged that idea, because meeting "Comedyboy"
 at an emotional funeral sounded to me like a bad idea.  Thanks for understanding.

 I had met Sabutai's brother and mother before, but not his sister.
 The day before the funeral, I got an e-mail from her thanking me for being
 such a good friend to him, and then she mentioned  bartcop.com
 Apparently, Sabutai had mentioned it to her, but she'd never seen it.
 She said the first time she ever logged on, she saw that awful letter from Philip.
 You know the one,  the awful "...in the ground" letter.

 If I thought there was any chance any of his family would ever see that
 I wouldn't have printed it, but the damage had already been done.
  Memo to Philip: Like an STD, your letter continues to harm others.
 In an effort to make her feel better, when I answered her e-mail I pointed her
 to the "eulogy" I had written a couple of issues back.

 We arrived at the services just before they were to start.
 I saw Kurt Glasco, the lawyer who ran against that shit Inhofe, for whom
 I had plenty of "helpful" ideas about how to answer Ted Koppel's questions.
 When he saw me, he recognized me from a long time ago, but I'm sure he
 has no idea who "BartCop" is.

 A friend told Sabutai's sister wanted to speak to me before we went inside.
 She was a very nice lady, and she had a request:
 She liked the eulogy I had written, and told me she had e-mailed it to
 the preacher and would I mind if he read from it during the services?

 How do you spell panic?

 I reminded her that there were "unchurch-like" words in that eulogy.
 (I didn't want the preacher reading the "peed in my car" story, for example.)
 She assured me the preacher would use wisdom and discretion.
 So, we went inside.

 Priority One was speaking to his mother.
 She's getting on in years, and her eyesight isn't the best, and she wasn't expecting me to
 have a beard like one of the Oak Ridge Boys, so it took her a minute to recognize me.

 You know me, I can find fault with anything, but this was handled perfectly.
 While the service was religious in nature, it was still done very well.
 Friends, family and Democrats were there.
 There was even a couple of people from the old Rock Island days...

 The minister had several papers with quotes from his friends.
 He mentioned Democrats and Dennis's work with them several times.
 One of the things he mentioned that I had written was the fact that when the Democrats
 needed someone to do the non-glamorous work, Dennis always volunteered.
 When the minister read that, someone behind me said, "Amen."
 That made me feel good, because it was true.

 Then, more readings from  bartcop.com
 It was the first time a man of the cloth had ever spoken anything I wrote.
 In a chapel, no less...

 He used President Bartlet's "Chief of staff" quote.  I got the feeling he wasn't
 exactly sure who President Bartlet was, but I know the Democrats all knew.
 He also read some one-liners, skillfully and wisely avoiding the "Bartcopisms."

 But he didn't mention the fourth-quarter "Sabutai fumble" that gave the championship to Oklahoma.
 That was probably a good move, since it might've opened up questions as to which
 extra-terrestial entity should receive the credit for sealing the game for the Sooners..

 After the letters, they played a religious song, then they closed with a song Dennis told
 a friend he wanted played at his funeral,  "A Man I'll Never Be," by Boston.
 When I heard that, I got a chuckle, thinking about the "American music" debate we had had.

 Since I'm a dumb-ass, it took me a while to figure out what might have happened.
 At first, I thought he might have been sending me and another close friend a post-mortem dink.
 But then I realized what he was really doing:  If he'd chosen another song, maybe a song like
 the obvious - Stairway to Heaven - it would've forever changed that song from what it is to
 "the song they played at Dennis's funeral," and he spared us that.
 Thanks, Dude.

 Then it was over, so we made a quick exit.
 

 Anyone who has read much  bartcop.com  knows what we did next.
 It was all I could do.