Local Ulverston bloke – quite a character – let’s call him Eric. We always knew where he was ‘cos we saw his bike propped up outside one of the many pubs in town. Eric always wore a checked, padded work shirt. When he died, the chums in the pub – where he’s cadged many a pint – decided they would turn up to the funeral wearing THEIR work shirts. Wives were mortified. Some went out and bought a NEW one for the day, others, more brave, came with paint stains etc.
After his coffin came in, we had beer matts so we could write a last message to place on the coffin. “You owe me a pint Eric”. The local microbrewery brewed a special ale in his name to be drank at the wake.