So, I had to get out my driver’s license today for some boring paperwork purposes. After having copied the pertinent information off of it, I set it aside. As it was face-down on the table, my attention was drawn to the form printed on the back. A form which, until today, I have never actually read.
You know how driver’s licenses indicate whether or not you want to be an organ donor? Mine doesn’t. Well, not in those words, anyway. Missouri is apparently far too politically correct for that. Here’s what the organ donor form says on the back of my card:
“I hereby make an anatomical gift upon my death.”
What? An “anatomical gift”? Is that something which is given to people who are “bodily challenged” to the point where they are “life challenged”? i.e. “I’m not an organ donor. I’m an anatomical gifter for the life challenged. Of course, that won’t happen until I am post-living myself.”
You can then specify whether you want your anatomical gift to consist of “any organ” or “specifically” one in particular. What? As if an anatomical gifter would say, “I mean, sure, you can have the liver, but my lungs… well, I’m rather attached to them. We go back a long ways. They’ve gotten me through a lot. I’m rather sentimental about them.”
Question: If you’re dead, and you don’t mind having your body chopped up and given to people who need it more than you do, would you really get picky about what parts they took?
Anyway. There you have it. Proof that bureaucracy can actually occasionally be amusing.