Alright, let's get this straight. Another obituary. Another life reduced to bullet points. Joe Edel, carpenter, age 94. Is that it?

The Headline vs. The Man

"Joe was a talented wood worker and was very handy at making anything someone would want." Okay, fine. But what did he want? Did he ever build himself that dream cabin? Or was he too busy building decks for suburbanites who wouldn't know a dovetail joint from a... well, you get the idea.

And "enjoyed working in his garden"? Give me a break. Gardening's a war against weeds, bugs, and the relentless march of entropy. Did he actually enjoy it, or was it just something to do after 40 years of hammering nails?

"Joe lived at Roberds Lake for over 60 years and enjoyed living there very much." Did he though? Or was he trapped there, watching the lake slowly die from algae blooms and McMansions? I mean, 60 years is a long time to be anywhere. You gotta wonder what keeps a guy rooted to one spot like that. Maybe he just didn't have the energy to leave. Which, let's be real, ain't exactly a ringing endorsement.

The Family Angle

The obit ticks off the usual boxes: kids, grandkids, great-grandkids, even a great-great-grandkid named Tucker. Tucker! What a name. I bet Tucker has no idea who Joe Edel was, beyond some old dude in a photo album.

And then there's the ex-wife, Dolores. "They later divorced." Ouch. That's gotta sting, even after all these years. What happened there? Was it the long hours, the sawdust in the bed, the quiet desperation of small-town life? We'll never know.

It's interesting how obituaries always gloss over the messy parts of life. Like, did Joe have any regrets? Did he ever screw anyone over? Did he lie awake at night wondering if he'd made the right choices? Offcourse, they never tell you that part.

You know, my own uncle was a carpenter. A real bastard, if I'm being honest. Drank too much, cheated on his wife, and always had a get-rich-quick scheme brewing. But he could build a damn house. Maybe Joe Edel was like that. Maybe he was a saint. Who the hell knows? All we got are these sanitized paragraphs.

The Final Nail

"The family prefers that memorials be directed to Bethlehem Academy High School in memory of Joe." So, not even flowers. Just send money to some private school. I guess that's what passes for legacy these days.

Mass of Christian Burial at Divine Mercy Catholic Church. Interment at Trebon Cemetery. The whole shebang. It's all so... rote. So predictable.

I wonder if anyone will actually remember Joe Edel in 50 years. Or will he just be another name on a tombstone, slowly fading into the Minnesota soil?

So, What's the Real Story?

This isn't a story; it's a list. A collection of facts that add up to... well, nothing much. Joe Edel lived, he built things, he had a family, and then he died. The end. But life, real life, ain't that simple. It's messy, complicated, and full of contradictions. And you can't capture that in a few goddamn paragraphs.