I saw an item in yesterday’s commuter rag saying that a Californian company (of course) had developed a gravestone that incorporated a recording that “welcomed” visitors to the gravesite. The concept seems a bit tacky to me, but I’m intrigued all the same:
Has anyone experienced one of these?
What does the welcome message say? Surely it’s not “Have a nice day”?
Is the recorded voice actually that of the person who’s buried in the grave and who has gone to the trouble of recording the message ante mortem?
I saw one in when visiting a family cemetery in backwoods Alabama back in October. It was the grave of a nine year old child (a distant cousin whose family I don’t know) who died in an accident about a year ago. The whole grave is just straight out of a Stephen King novel- his parents evidently took his death incredibly hard (even by the standards of parents losing a young child): the headstone is in the shape of a baseball (not just round but with a baseball design), has multiple ceramic photos of the child, there were toys and Halloween decorations on the grave (including one that- not making this up and in fact I have photographic evidence- that said “Boo! Ghosts at play here!”). The recording (there’s a button and speakers beneath a plastic case) is a tinny voice probably taken from a home movie; it’s a child’s voice saying something like “Hey! Hey! I’m Justin! Look at me!”
Imagine the Pietà with a mulleted Jesus, tube-topped madonna and sculpted marble beer cans at her feet. It was one of the saddest, most tragic, heartwrenching and utterly tacky things I’ve ever seen from a woman who would clearly have built a pyramid if she could.
“Oh sure, NOW you visit? I’m sick in the hospital, as it turns out now, not just “probably” dying, but actually on my last breaths and where were you then? Oh, sure, I know, you had your sister’s birthday, your car was in the shop, the kids had the flu, blah blah… So now you come and stand there and what? Bring flowers? Fat lot of freaking good flowers do me now jerkoff. Listen, just do us bith a favor, leave your silk daisies on the ground, and scoot. Try not to step on my new friends while you’re leaving”
Press “B” if you’re my wife, daughter or other family (especially my cousin Ray):
“Hey there. I miss you too. Do me a favor and get these damn daisies off the ground would you?”
I thought they only sold this stuff at party stores around Halloween. You know, you step on the panel and it goes “oooOOOOOoooo” or cackles like a witch? People aren’t seriously putting these on graves, are they?
I doubt anybody could come up with this except Sampiro. And this is why we love Sampiro around here.
Not exactly the same thing, buy my SIL put a recording of my dead SIL’s last voicemail into a stuffed animal or locket (I forget which). The things folks find comfort in…
Sampiro, it’s not that I’d doubt you, for all the world.
But can you share this evidence? Please?
I think that the of these speakers sounds incredibly tacky - but I also think photographs are tacky, too. And either would be less tacky than Victorian era elegeic poetry.
Aside from that, all I can think of is a short SF story I’d read several years ago, where the technology to create limited AIs was being used to make holographic simaculara that would be housed in the grave markers. The story ended with the AI telling the mourner he was an idiot, and to go turn on a couple of neighbors, because they’d planned a party for the evening.
I still can’t decide whether I approve of this, or find it horrifying.
Why am I picturing those self-guided tours of zoos and impressive government buildings? You know, the ones where you push a button on a panel in front of the exhibit and a recorded voice starts to do a tour guide’s spiel?
“Immediately in front of you is the grave of Mordekai Ashkenplotz. Reb’ Ashkenplotz was a highly respected spiritual counselor and sympathetic ear to his family and neighborhood in life, and requests that even in death, you feel free to tell him your problems, because if you don’t have a warm shoulder to cry on, what’ve you got, after all?”
“To your right you’ll see the gravesite of Isabella Maronelli. Wife, mother and good friend, ‘Mama’ Morelli spent her life feeding and housing a veritable army of sons, daughters, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, cousins, siblings, and occasional strangers. ‘Mama’ would also like to remind you to eat something…you’ll catch your death you’re so skinny!”
I’m between computers at the moment unfortunately, but as soon as I finish loading my files I’ll post a picture (with the name blurred) and bump the thread. There are also toy cars and a jack-o-lantern on the grave. This is in Independence, AL, incidentally, a very small community where everybody’s related to everybody and the folks are a bit peculiar; another grave (which I’ll also post) has an 18 wheeler shaped granite headstone (I assume it’s because the person was a driver, or maybe they were just on sale).
I think it would be fun to get one with a motion sensor so that if someone steps on your grave your headstone will shout, “Hey, get the HELL off of me!”
Well, H.G. Wells apparently wanted his epitah to read:
Now I can’t get the sound of this being repeated over and over by a weird Central European Voice out of my head. And that’s even more weird, because Wells was British.
