The Funeral That Never Was – Gene Watson’s Unforgettable “Final Fling” in Louisiana
In the long and storied career of Gene Watson, a man whose voice has carried the soul of Texas honky-tonks for over six decades, it takes something truly extraordinary to surprise him. Yet on a Sunday night in Marthaville, Louisiana, on October 30, Gene found himself at the center of what might be the most unusual performance of his entire life — a funeral for a man who wasn’t dead.
Billed as The Final Fling, the event was less a memorial and more a mischievous celebration — a living funeral for local businessman Robert Gentry, who decided to host his own “goodbye” party while he was still very much alive. Around 500 guests gathered in the Rebel State Historic Site, deep in the heart of Cajun Country, to honor (and roast) their friend before, as the invitation humorously read, “the Lord decides otherwise.” The invitation even listed his date of birth — January 5, 1940 — followed by the line: Died: Only God knows when.
“It was the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” Gene told The Boot afterward. “I’ve played all kinds of shows, but never one quite like this. They had pallbearers in tuxedos, the works — everything but the coffin!”
Gene Watson and his Farewell Party Band were the evening’s headliners, turning what might have seemed morbid into something deeply human — a celebration of life, friendship, and laughter. The “roast before he’s toast,” as Gentry’s friends called it, featured tributes, jokes, and even a mock eulogy delivered by former Louisiana governor Edwin W. Edwards, a man as colorful as the state itself.
For Watson, whose music has always dwelled in the space between sorrow and grace, the event was strangely fitting. Country music, after all, has never been afraid to confront mortality — but it also knows how to laugh in its face. There’s something poetic in that: singing about life’s impermanence while standing before a man determined to celebrate his before it’s over.
What makes the story remarkable isn’t just its eccentricity, but what it reveals about Gene Watson himself — his ability to connect, to find humor and humanity even in the strangest of circumstances. It’s that same quality that’s made his songs endure for generations: a mix of sincerity, wisdom, and a touch of wry wit that reminds us life’s best shows often happen off-script.
In Marthaville that night, there was no coffin, no tears — just the warm sound of Gene Watson’s voice filling the Louisiana air, reminding everyone that sometimes, the best way to honor life is to sing it while you still can.