I can go for a nice slab of bovine flesh every now and then myself. Whenever I find myself near Ellensburg I make a point of stopping in to the Palace, a steakhouse with a decor that leans heavily on antique farm implements.I get those solicitations in the mail too. I enjoy a good steak as much as the next guy, but yeah, if it means sitting through that nonsense, I'd rather eat dirt.
I haven't "pre-planned" my final preparations either, and frankly neither me or my wife care much about how it gets done. My wife says if she goes first, and I waste money on a funeral for her, she'll come back and haunt me. If it's me, I don't really care. Just find a sandlot ballpark somewhere and spread my ashes at home plate. It'll help fill in the holes.
The steakhouses hosting those financial planning pitches around here are of the white linen and moody ambience type, which carry the names of former star football figures — Elway’s, for instance, and Shanahan’s.
Not for me.