I thought I heard it all. I heard that if you play Mozart for babies, they grow up smarter (apparently my parents didn’t even own a radio when I was a kid). I heard that if you put a razor blade under a pyramid, the blade maintains its cutting edge. I also heard that if you were ever able to get into the ‘guts’ of a golf ball, you would find that its core was made of an incredibly potent acid.
Now I find myself hearing something so wacky that it makes the whole ‘golf ball guts’ thing seem believable.
The thing of it is; there is a company out there that will send your e-mails for you after you’re dead. Yes, you read this correctly...
A company that will send e-mails to friends, relatives, and ‘other persons of interest’ upon your departure from this plane of existence for a 'nominal fee'.
All I know is if I get an e-mail from a dead friend, I’m going back to Church.
Me, “Father, I’ve been away from the Church for quite a while, but, you see, I just got an e-mail from one of my buddies, and he’s, well, he’s sort of, well, actually he’s dead.”
Father, “Well my son, it’s a shame that your friend passed away, but isn’t it nice to know that he was thinking of you right before he went to be with our Lord?”
Me, “That’s the problem Father; see, he sent me the message three days after he, uh, left.”
Father, “Oh, I see.”
Me, “No offense Father, but I don’t think you do – he sent me a message while I was at his viewing.”
Father, “And what did this message say?”
Me, “He said he didn’t think the Rush Limbaugh tie was appropriate for the event.”
Me, “I love that tie. Okay, so maybe the colors make it look like Walt Disney exploded, but it cost me almost fifty bucks.”
Father, “And how does that make you feel?”
Me, “How do you think it makes me feel?
Father, “I don’t know. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not much of a ‘tie’ man…”
So this is how it works: You contract with this company to address your ‘post mortem messaging’ requirements. In return, they agree to send out messages to your loved ones. You pay in advance for their services, and they assist you in parting with some of your ‘You can’t take it with you’ cash.
Why didn’t I think of this? People pay these guys for services and have no Earthly idea whether or not they will be performed. Their slogan – “A dead customer is our best customer!”…. And if I, as an intended recipient, don’t get an e-mail from the ‘dearly-departed’ friend, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t expecting one.
These guys are geniuses!
There are other valuable services provided by this ‘once in a lifetime’ offer:
Make loved ones aware of your wishes for burial or cremation (seems a little ‘last minute’ to me….. But what the heck, you’re already dead right? What do you care? If you did care, you would have taken care of this when you were ALIVE.)
Send confidential stock, retirement, and insurance information over the internet (Whoa Nelly! They’ve already got your credit card information, now you’re turning over your investment and insurance information to these guys?)
Let friends and family know what inheritance they will receive. I’m sure something set up over the internet is perfectly legal in all fifty states -- I have one word for you, ‘Escheat’. Go ahead, look it up, you’re not going to be happy about this either, but what do you care? You’re off playing a harp while your immediate family lives in a refrigerator box just off Broadway and Main with some guy named “Dwight”.
I only have one question – how do they know you’re dead? Do call them at 1-800-DOR-NAIL to report your ‘status’ daily? And what happens if you FORGET to check in? "Yeah, sorry Mom, my cellphone died and... No, stop crying, I'm okay!"
or, “Yes, this is Mike, account number 48u98y649874 – I’ve got a cold, but I’m feeling better.”
If there’s any lag in communication between these guys and your family, you may find yourself in a pine box for all eternity when what you really wanted was a nice fiery send-off in the crematorium. There is nothing quite like the look on your wife’s face once you’ve already been dropped into the ground for your dirt nap and ‘You’ve got mail’ pops up on the screen.
Here’s my plan: When I go, I want Mozart playing in the background. I want a nice close shave with my ‘pyramid power’ sharpened razors, and I want the funeral director to use golf ball acid to slosh me down the drain at the funeral home. No fuss, no muss! No pallbearers required - just rinse me away with a garden hose and a dollop of OxiClean.
Oh, and if you’re coming to my funeral – wear your Rush Limbaugh tie, if you don’t have one, I’ve got a couple that I won’t be needing any more…..
Post Mortem: The company referenced above was 'Lastwishes.com' and DID exist for several years and WAS around when I wrote the above back in 2008.
Alas, the business failed and the www.lastwishes.com website is now deader than President Obama's hope for a second term. I wonder who sent out LastWishes.com's 'last wish' notifications?
Most likely, I guess, Google?
Don't they do EVERYTHING?