if i die

I recall a Mad Magazine cartoon where an old man on his death bed says to his friend of many years, “Come closer” He’s obviously about to utter his last words. The friend leans in. “Closer,” says the old man. Then, touching his friend’s arm with his forefinger, he says, “Last tap.” He dies with a satisfied smile on his face.

It is the ultimate squelch isn’t it? The problem is there is no way we can possibly be sure we can get life’s last tap. That is, until now.

            Thanks to the Web and its great gift to mankind, social media, we can now have life after life. Yes, services like Deadsoci.al, Liveson.org and Facebook’s “if i die,” make it possible for us to leave messages for friends, loved ones and even enemies.

            Consider the possibilities! Had the Internet been ubiquitous just 30 years ago, we could still be receiving messages from Richard Nixon. The idea of sending messages post mortem isn’t new, of course. Wills and letters to loved ones, drafted in the waning days of life, probably go back to pre-historic times when cavemen painted images on rocks. Even video messages go way back, all the way back to the 1980s when everyone grappled with their VCRs.

Still, how many people can you reach on mere paper documents? Really, how many letters can you write? The cost of postage alone is murder. Well, my friends we are no longer chained to any such limitations. Like the all you can eat buffet at the Golden Corral, you can offer a full plate of wisdom long after you’ve entered the next world. Those of us still earthbound can enjoy every morsel.

When three cyberspace executors of your choosing have verified your passing, your thoughts can be posted, just like before your demise. The difference is you don’t have to deal with smart aleck responses. You can even set up a delivery schedule for your tweets, texts and posts. It’s a new kind of immortality. Imagine sending your spouse, your adult children or maybe your old boss emails for months or even years after you die!

            “Honey, you’re always late filing our income taxes. April 15^th is right around the corner. Don’t wait to the last minute again. Get off your rear end and take care of it.” Your loved one will appreciate the reminder.

            Have you been busting with a secret? After you’ve been laid to rest, you can finally tell all. People love being let in on secrets, even dead people’s secrets. Imagine if you will a deathbed YouTube video to be sent to your siblings after you’re laid to rest.

“Hi Joe. Hi Mary.” (Long coughing spell)

“Remember when Mom died and we cleaned her house? Well, I want you to know I found twenty thousand dollars stashed in one of her suitcases.

“You guys were so busy arguing over those stupid Disney World souvenir spoons, I had no trouble sticking the suitcase in the trunk of my Mercedes. That vacation Melody and I took to the South Pacific? Mom’s little stash paid for that trip. We must have toasted you two from the promenade deck a thousand times. Wow! Feels good to get it off my chest! By the way Mary, I’m leaving you my share of those Disney spoons.”

These afterlife services aren’t the least bit shy or reserved about suggesting the possible uses of their cyberspace services. One site even goads you into settling old scores, using a graphic of the middle finger to emphasize the point. A capital idea, no? Shouldn’t we all strive for revenge as a final legacy without the opportunity to make amends? Last tap indeed.

Most of us believe in the afterlife. According to one poll, 82% of Americans believe in life after death. But most of us don’t really believe in death, at least not our own. The people at Facebook understand this. They could have called their service “when I die.” Instead they chose “if I die.”  We treat our own demise as a conditional thing, something that might happen; as if the laws of nature don’t apply to us.
Still, all the evidence suggests that everyone eventually will exit planet earth. Question is, where are those messages Deadsoci.al will send for us really going to come from? My advice? Play it safe. Be nice…even after you’re gone.    

Help! My Friends Are Poking Me

When the editor of the weekly newspaper invited me to be her friend on Facebook, I couldn’t resist. I had no idea she wanted us to be friends but I was excited to receive her invitation. She is one of the movers and shakers in town and she is a very nice lady. There was only one problem: I wasn’t a Facebook member. If I wanted to be friends with my editor I had to sign up. So I did and now I have 24 friends, some of whom I am well acquainted with, some I’ve met once or twice, and a handful of relatives to round things out.
For my money, it was a lot easier to find friends in the third grade when the kid sitting next to you in class just whispered out of the side of his mouth, “Hey jerkweed, wanna be friends?” I’ll confess that I am bewildered at times by Facebook. For instance, I always thought that relatives automatically qualified as friends even if you hate them. Not that I hate any of mine. I’m just saying. And, now that I’m friends with relatives, they can follow my every move if I’m foolish enough to post them. If my kids were to see a notation like, “Went to Vegas for the day but told my wife I had business in Phoenix,” I have no doubt they would squeal on me. What can I really post that will be interesting and keep me out of hot water?
Some of my Facebook friends post messages describing what they are doing at this very moment, along with photos to burn the image in my mind. One friend, perhaps a bit bored with life, (or maybe he has kid problems too) wrote he was eating potato chips on his couch. I loved the picture, one hand dipped in a giant bag of salt and vinegar chips the other holding the remote. His elderly mother probably isn’t interested in social networking. She doesn’t even own a computer. Too bad because I would like nothing better than to invite her to be my friend so she could see what’s clearly visible in the picture. My friend was getting crumbs on the couch and even worse, he didn’t have a napkin nearby to wipe the grease off his fingers. If the poor woman could see this site she would be beside herself. She’s very old fashioned though so rather than email chiding words to him she would reach for the phone and call.
My friend Cindy poked me a couple of months ago. I had no idea what that meant. I still don’t. I can tell you she hasn’t poked me again but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe I was supposed to give her a poke. To be honest I haven’t been able to get a full night’s sleep since she poked me, worrying that my social networking skills might be costing me friends.
I have no doubt that my clumsy business networking activities are costing me many fine opportunities. Linkedin, a business networking site geared toward business contacts, is a case in point. Some of my Linkedin connections are also Facebook friends. There’s no place to hide. I have a whopping 32 Linkedin connections. Obviously I’m not exactly a ball of fire on this site either. My friend Don has 149 connections. Rick has more than 250.
And, I’ve already had one very unpleasant experience on this site. I was asked to connect with someone I thought I successfully disconnected years ago. I refused her invitation, an option Linkedin clearly provides. I thought that was the end of the matter but instead I got a nasty message back from my suitor which, in its own way, provided ample justification for my refusal. Still, it must be painful to be turned down. One of my connections wanted to recommend me to others. I refused that too. He said something about my track record that while accurate in every way, didn’t create the value add you expect from such things.
Social networking can be fun and it does offer a way to keep up with people that live far away. I have heard that some people actually get addicted to social networking. They become so immersed in the lives of their friends and business connections that they spend hours on these sites. I am not worried about that in the least. I lead a balanced life, filled with…hold on, It’s my cell. There’s a tweet from Twitterer…Can I get back to you in a sec?

Copyright 2009 Len Serafino. All rights reserved.