Dealing in Death

If you've been reading this blog for a little while, you've probably discovered that I enjoy over-analyzing some of the more obscure, mostly irrelevant things in everyday life.  For the most part, I like to think that I've gotten a pretty good handle on a lot of it: the fact that nobody else bothers to analyze this stuff notwithstanding, I've come to view myself as pretty damn perceptive.  Two things that I don't relate to very well, though - no matter how well I try - are marketing schemes and funeral homes.  My feelings toward marketing schemes are something of a disillusionment, mostly because they're so commonly intended to sucker people into buying things they don't need.  The fact that I know perfectly friendly people in the funeral business dictates that my attitude towards this beast is slightly more amiable; however, I simply can't bring myself to fully understand an establishment that profits off of people dying.  Needless to say, when these two entities come together - most commonly as funeral home marketing schemes - I'm totally thrown for a loop.

Let me explain.  Before you start worrying for my sanity, rest assured that this isn't a dilemma that I randomly dreamed up during this morning's sermon (out of the possibility that Dave Williams is reading this, I'd like to emphasize that it was tres good).  It actually emerged right when I got home from church, upon my decision to open an unaddressed piece of admail placed in my mailbox by a local funeral home, that will remain unnamed lest my ass gets sued for libel.  I'm not sure what initially inclined me to open it; what I do know, is that the content elicited a pretty mixed bag of emotions, ranging from humour to shock.  As a taste, check out the introductory paragraph of the letter:

Dear Family,

This is your opportunity to recieve a FREE FUNERAL COST ESTIMATE.  You can also receive a FREE Planning Ahead Brochure, filled with valuable information on planning ahead.  Simply mark your answers below and return the completed questionnaire in the attached postage-paid envelope.  It's easy and there's no obligation!

NO COST - NO OBLIGATION

Am I the only one that feels as if this represents a compilation of much that is seriously screwed up about our society?  On a trivial, personal level, this letter had the callous effect of tainting my otherwise sunny, happy, content day, by reminding me that I'd eventually have to plan a funeral for myself or my loved ones.  Whoopee!  Slightly more nauseating is the fact that the following portion of the letter was a questionnaire format, in which the "future client" is prompted to anticipate their future preference for a wood or steel casket, much like an airline passenger would be asked to choose between the vegetarian blog of unintelligible matter and it's meat equivalent.  The utilization of such marketing standards as "no cost - no obligation" - in bold and caps, to boot - also just doesn't seem quite right to me.  Call me crazy.

I was especially struck by the concluding paragraph of the piece, which informed the reader of the fact the funeral home had the gall to make the advertised product a "limited time offer."  Are these guys serious?  Is it meant to be a joke, something along the lines of "your time is limited, and so is this offer"?  I also found it pretty amusing that at the end of the letter, the author provides a check-box beside a sentence reading "Please see that I also receive a FREE Planning Ahead Brochure".  Couldn't they have just said something along the lines of "Please ensure that I receive another depressing reminder of my impending death"?  The ridiculousness of this content has convinced me that these guys are either failed stand-up comedians who got booed off the stage one too many times for making their audiences feel like crap, or zombies.  One of the two.

I realize that if I was truly writing in the analytical tradition of my last few posts, I'd try to draw some sort of absurd sociological/theological/philosophical conclusion from this stuff.  After considering this course of action for about five seconds, though, I've decided that it would be mostly ridiculous, considering I just concluded what could be described as a glorified book review of a funeral parlour pamphlet.  I may not be headed for a six-foot deep hole anytime soon, but I won't rule out the nuthouse...