I imagine kids on a Halloween scavenger hunt in the cemetery.  Each group’s crumpled paper reads, “Find and take pictures of headstones of the following people -”

Sitka Russian Cemegary Lisa Simone Copyright 2008

Dead person # 1.  Find the grave of a woman who was an avid Scuba diver, underwater photographer and author, and who looked like a million bucks without plastic surgery or Jimmy Choo shoes.

Watch the video of the tragic barrel racing event that took her life, and write down the name of the horse that skidded, rolled over and squashed  her flat.

Morbid, eh?  Well once again, technology is here to save the day.

Multimedia Epitaphs

You better start thinking about your multimedia epitaph because it’s coming to a boneyard near you. The Crave gadget blog from CNET reported yesterday your custom Memorial RosettaStone Tablet is now available: Message from the grave, straight to your cell phone.

Yes, it’s an excellent and creative new application of technology to address each of us falling into obscurity.  To raise cemetery “attendance.”  Currently, most of us get a stone, a name, a couple dates, and maybe a couple words.

But the freaky morbid factor is pretty high, too. Anyone wandering around can pull up your mini-Facebook-like “Info” page?  Can you “death-friend” other departed friends and family members thereby creating a massive cyber genealogy chart?

Will someone hack the data in your cyber-obit?  Hell, mine may end up reporting that I was a crackhead millionaire who invented the Internet (Sorry Al), hoarded wild boars in suburban areas to the consternation of homeowners’ boards in 4 states, and who died in a lawn chair clutching a Bud Light amid a field of yellow daisies with Pink Floyd blaring in the background. (Believe me, it wouldn’t be a Bud Light.)


But seriously …

How many people really visit grave sites anymore?  Many many do, but after two generations, I suspect the only grave sites who get visitors are the celebs, the nutcases, the famous and the historic.

I’m not sure this technology could keep alive someone’s *memory*, but it could immortalize their final story.  It could be an anthropological treasure trove in the future.

Or the basis for morbid Halloween treasure hunts.

In a way, I think I’d like to be part of the treasure hunt.  Maybe a kid will get turned on by Scuba and the beauty underwater, or enjoy the (pre-death) antics my new-found fun of riding a horse.  And get interested.  I could be recruiting for my hobbies beyond the grave.

In closing, I gotta say - this post was liking pondering my own mini-obituary.  Morbid.  I think I’ll eat really healthy today and hit the gym later.