Bring Out Your Dead – Peter Culley – 29th

Now that I am navigating my way through my 8th decade in what has become a pathetic shadow of a once great nation, I find myself whiling away much of the time left to me in watching television. Not that it brings me much comfort or even entertainment. In spite of numerous channels (gone are the days of simple black-and-white TVs showing Muffin the Mule interspersed with the Potter’s Wheel) the choice of programmes leaves me mostly exasperated and dissatisfied. The ether seems to consist largely of game shows, American imports (ie Friends), violent crime and/or soap operas. All that is bad enough but is made even worse by the explosion of mind-numbing advertisements that are so prevalent as to reduce one to hurling the remote at the set in the corner out of sheer frustration.
Among the most irritating – and numerous – of these are those extolling the merits of a number of companies seeking to sell cremation services to an aging population. I suppose one must concede that this trend is inevitable as the nation’s proportion of the elderly continues to grow but – speaking for myself – I do not relish the constant reminder that (a) my best years are behind me, and (b) there may be few if any years left to come.
The one I wish to review today commences with an overweight gentleman lounging in his bath while his wife calls out from the corridor that the company had provided a “lovely send off” for a dear departed. This aroused my curiosity. Just what constituted “a lovely send off”? No details are provided. Did it involve masses of flowers; a full rendition of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony; an exquisitely expensive diamond-encrusted coffin; a choir singing mournful songs; or what? We are asked to accept the allegation without any supporting evidence. The gentleman simply replies that, “They did her proud.”
Even more intriguing is the wife’s retort. “She did them proud” she exclaims. This really threw me. Exactly how can a corpse – supposedly encased in a wooden coffin possibly contribute to the occasion in such a way as to bring credit to the company? Does lying still and not moving a muscle count? Or perhaps it was her keeping quiet during the service which met this requirement? I am completely baffled.
And then, to crown it all, the advert comes to an end with the assertion that the company is “Britain’s favourite”. Really? Just how was the accolade achieved? They may of course have attracted more potential cadavers to invest in them pending a future transaction but does this automatically entitle them to boast of being Britain’s favourite? Surely such a signal honour can only be ascertained by way of some sort of ballot or other test of public opinion. This, in turn, would require adherence to some sort of scrutiny to ensure fair play (just like postal voting – or maybe not). In order to vote you would need to produce evidence that the company had – in fact – acted in respect of a family member or dear friend. Even so, this only entitles you to judge a single supplier of this service. To truly decide among competitors you ought to have had experience of two or more such enterprises, but this might be a little too ambitious. And how do you define the characteristics that contribute to an outstanding service? The staff were all respectfully dressed and conducted themselves with proper decorum? The hearse arrived on time and was spotless? Any laughter in church or chapel was quickly quelled? The weather stayed fine (” nice day for it” ). I could go on. but you see the problem here.
Sadly one has come to the conclusion that the numerous adverts we have to endure on a daily basis are no more reliable in their wild assertions than those uttered by your average Government spokesman appearing each Wednesday on Prime Minister’s Question Time!