Monumental Distortions / by Courtney Mehlhaff

I recently had the good fortune to see one of my high school classmates for the first time since graduation. Somehow, in the course of a wide-ranging conversation over dinner, this question was asked: "If someone built a statue of you, what would your stone likeness be doing?"

Few things please me more than hypothetical queries such as this.

I had to admit, if the sculpture were true to form, I should probably just be holding a remote.

However, if I could choose how I wanted to be immortalized, I think the answer is very clear. It runs along the same lines as my wanting to be buried holding something wildly anachronistic to puzzle curious forensic scientists or interred with a note informing whoever has dug me up that they're now cursed.

Because if you have the opportunity to mess with people from beyond the grave . . . why wouldn't you?

So I told my friend that for my statue, I would pick the most batshit crazy thing I could think of, like an image of me riding a shark or wrestling a velociraptor. 

Basically, I want something that would make future folk stop short and say, "What the fuck?"

Or, you know, whatever profanity is all the rage in the year 3000.

(It's probably still the F-bomb).