Your warehouse club membership pays to the end

I have an interest with things related to death – but not particularly death itself.

Spring Grove Cemetery and Arboretum is one of my favorite places to take photographs, “Six Feet Under” is one of my favorite shows of all time, I volunteered at Fernside: A Center for Grieving Children for many years (and still think it the best single non-profit organization in the Greater Cincinnati area, hands down). I get creeped out every time I see the Hamilton County Sheriff‘s “meat wagon” driving around town with the deputy driving and the two blue jumpsuit-clad prisoner-helpers – one riding shotgun, the other in the back seat of the extended cab pick-up – going either to pick up a dead body, drop one off at the coroner’s office near University Hospital or heading back downtown to the Justice Center.

[It’s weird, but I never connected all those things together until just now decided to write this blog post, but it seems to work. Or not work, as the case may be.]

So, I was a little disturbed when I saw our old, good friend Maggie Downs‘ post on Bloggy Style about Costco’s product line.