DEATH GOES CUTTING EDGE

This week’s column is about everyone’s favorite topic of discussion ‘round the dinner table: death and burial. Hang on, it’s going to be a real hoot.

What’s piqued my morbid interest this week is a recent Washington Post article on "alternative burials." Seems like the old six-feet-down-in-a-pine-box idea just doesn’t cut it with today’s rapidly aging baby boomers. In true boomer fashion, they want something new, something cutting-edge for their final exit. And the funeral industry stands ready to oblige.

The best-known alternative funeral arrangement has to be the one offered by Celestis, the corporation who, for a fee of $5,300 dollars, will stuff a "symbolic portion" of your cremated carcass into a missile and fire it into Earth orbit. For $12,500 you can choose to either have your ashes crashed into the moon at high speed (like the late astronomer Eugene Shoemaker) or launched into deep space. Their newest service is called "Ad Astra". For only $299, Celestis will not only name a star after you, but will transmit a personal "high energy digital memorial message to the stars", which "can include photos, biographies, and tributes from family and friends."

It’s a neat idea, but I worry about the possibility that my star-going ashes would be snagged by a race of alien Amazon women and my DNA used to clone an army of zombie love-slaves. Okay, maybe "worry" isn’t the right word. Still, I like the thought of sending a "digital memorial message" to the stars. I’m sort of leaning towards "what’re YOU lookin’ at?"

For the dearly departed who was afraid of heights, there are plenty of fresh and exciting alternatives right here on Earth. A Florida company called "Eternal Reefs" will inter your ashes in a "reef ball", a concrete construction that looks like a giant whiffle ball and that’s sunk off the coast to form artificial reefs where fish and plants can grow. Frankly, you can get the same trip to the bottom of the sea by ratting out your friendly neighborhood mafioso, and at a fraction of the cost. But apparently, people are willing to pay between $850 and $3500 dollars for Eternal Reefs to, as they put it, "deploy" their ashes off the coast of Sarasota, Florida or Charleston, South Carolina. They almost had me till I read that terminology. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to deploy the mortal remains of our good friend…." I dunno, it just lacks something.

For the artistically minded, there’s "Eternally Yours", a company from Biloxi, Mississippi who will take you "cremains" (the fancy word for your ashes) and incorporate them into works of art. Artiste Bettye Jane Brokl will incorporate small quantities of your "cremains" into her paintings, which range from abstracts, to landscapes, to what I guess you’d refer to as really, really, still lifes. Eternally Yours will even do an art memorial for your pet. I don’t know if they’ll do a painting of your dog playing poker, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

Then there’s Celebration Forest in Idaho. They’ll plant a tree in your honor, whether you’re dead or alive, and when you have taken your final curtain call, they’ll scatter your "cremains" (that word again!) around the base of the tree. Lovely. I live a long, full, and happy life, and end up as fertilizer. There are some who would say it’s almost too appropriate.

If the idea of returning to the soil is just too depressing, why not go for that really old-time religion and have yourself mummified? I’m not kidding. An outfit called Summum in Salt Lake City offers "Eternal Memorialization through Mummification." According to their web site, the whole package, including memorial service, the mummification process itself (performed by licensed Thanatogeneticists, no less), transport to and from Salt Lake City (Thanatogeneticists don’t make house calls), and of course the "mummiform" (the fancy box they keep you in) can be had for the low, low price of $71,000. Frankly, for that kind of bread, I want a guarantee in writing that I’m not going to rise up and walk the earth slaughtering Egyptologists and menacing their beautiful assistants. I looked on Summum’s web site, but I couldn’t find such a guarantee. I’ll admit, however, that I didn’t look as hard as I might. Once I got to the part of the web site about "Divine Sexuality", I bailed out. Call me provincial, but there’s something about the juxtaposition of sex and mummies that sort of creeps me out.

Once you start thinking outside the box (so to speak), anything is possible. Why not have your ashes shot out of the confetti cannon at a rock concert? Or have your remains compressed into decorative coasters for your friends to set their drinks on at parties? Or packed into suspicious envelopes and mailed to the office of the politician of your choice, thus shutting down congress? The possibilities are endless, even if you’re not.

COPYRIGHT 2002 BY JERRY D. RHOADES, JR.