Who wants to hear the word death out loud? For advertisers, the answer is nobody, and they work hard to avoid this basic fact of life. Pharmaceutical ads are required to list potential complications. So the taboo word must be spoken, but few can appreciate the word death midst dreamy images of puppies and walks along the beach.
Those watching crummy TV or afflicted with insomnia are treated to the machinations of the death industry itself. Typically a middle-aged couple bemoans the fact that they’ve been forced to shell out coveted savings for their parents’ funeral. They don’t look pissed, but underneath I bet they’re seething. Then a cheerful neighbor pops in to report that she just got her check from Dominion Life, which paid for her father’s “final expenses.” The obvious solution to avoid lingering resentment is a burial policy to pay for funeral expenses – the casket, the flowers, the plot and various other sundries. However, the word funeral, burial or death is never uttered during these ads.
I am the target demographic for these advertisers. Recently flushed out of the sandwich generation myself, I admit that vague thoughts of mortality have inched their way forward, but I’m irritated by the bland euphemism of “final expenses.” The word “death” may seem a bit harsh, but why not take advantage of the creativity of the English language and use the clever and amusing euphemisms for death? Lighten up and make it fun.
Here is my script for a “final expenses” ad. I’ve tried to use as many expressions as possible, but the sheer number suggests that different expressions could be rotated through to create a whole campaign.
Warning: The following ad may contain material that is offensive to sensitive viewers who are uncomfortable with the reality of death. However, this ad does not contain the “D” word, but instead uses the colorful idioms that enliven our English language. Motivated viewers are referred to Mark Twain’s essay “Death in Nevada” where a rustler and a clergyman talk in their own euphemisms for death, and as a result are incomprehensible to each other. In fact, Mark Twain may have popularized the term “kick the bucket.”
Scene: Kitchen counter, two neighbors talking:
Delores: Mindy how are you doing? I heard that your father went toes up last month.
Mindy: Yes, my father finally bought the farm, but he was ready. He’d been swimming away from the dock these last months and now he’s peacefully pushing up daisies. Just look at all these bills for the funeral. Motions to a pile of envelopes strewn across the counter. I don’t know how we’re going to pay for all of this without dipping into our daughter’s wedding money.
Delores: Mindy, didn’t your parents have Crossing the Rainbow Bridge insurance? Mine did. Look here’s the check I just got. It paid for the all the expenses when my father joined the choir eternal.
Mindy: Do you think that it’s too late for me? Do I have to have a medical exam? What if I am about to croak?
Delores: No worries, a medical exam isn’t required, but if you do kick the bucket right away there might be a two-year waiting period for the policy to pay out, and it might not pay out that much more than what you put in.
Mindy: Hmm.. I think I understand. This is like forced savings. I can either spend on my kids now, or save money so that my daughter can spend on me later. Interesting choice, she’d probably want the money now, and just do an ashes to ashes thing when I sprout wings.
Delores: Mindy, you’re right. Money now is a great temptation, but personally I do want the horizontal phone booth when I go to sleep with the fishes. I don’t want my family to pay for my cement overcoat. I’m going to shuffle off this mortal coil with equanimity knowing that my family won’t begrudge the celebration of my big dirt nap.
Mindy: Delores, thanks for this great advice. I’m like you, when I assume room temperature and go to my reward, I want to spare my children what I’ve been faced with. I want them to throw in my towel with gratitude and good cheer.
End Scene
The following are euphemisms collected from various slang dictionaries sorted into vague categories. These could go by in a crawl beneath the ad.
Mob style
Wear a cement overcoat
Sleep with the fishes
Deep-six
Mining Style
Go up the flume
Hand in your lunch pail
Put to bed with a shovel
Agrarian Style
Push up daisies
Bought the Farm
Bite the dust
Go into the fertilizer business
Examine the radishes
Picking radishes from below
Become a root inspector
Picking turnips with a step ladder
Become a landowner
Cowboy Style
The last round up
Happy hunting ground
Navy Style
Slip one’s wind
Cut the painter
Take the ferry
Swim away from the dock
Lose the number of one’s mess
Answer the last roll call
Go to Davy Jones’ locker
Cribbage style
Peg out
Party Style
Definitely done dancing
Finally got his tab called at the bar of life
Avian style
Yield the crow a pudding
Turn over the perch
Swan song
Frog Style
Croak
Hop the twig
Travel Style
Take the ferry
Booked on the Gravesend bus
Go up green river
Wandering the Elysian fields
Crossing the River Styx
Taking an all expense paid trip aboard the Stygian cruise line
Heavenly Style
Meet your maker
Climb the golden staircase
Push clouds
Shoot one’s star
Sprouted wings
Cleaned the trumpet
Cross the rainbow bridge
Sports Style
A race well run
Juggling halos
Climb the greasy pole
Traded to the Angels
Cuisine Style
Ate it
Lose the number of one’s mess
Lay down one’s knife and fork
Stick one’s spoon in the wall
Worm food
Vegas style
Cash in your chips
Throw in the towel
Deal the final hand
Philatelic Style
Stamped returned to sender
ET Style
Called home
Author Style
That’s all she wrote
Permanently out of print
Shuffle off this mortal coil (Shakespeare)
Pot Pourri
Curtains
Pay one’s debt to nature
Go over to the majority
Six feet under
Snuff one’s glim
Put into one’s cool crepe
Medical Style
Assume room temperature
Metabolic processes are history
Living-impaired
Tending toward a state of chemical equilibrium
Wear a toe tag
Kicked the O2 habit
… and my personal favorite
Baste the formaldehyde turkey!
Follow Liza Blue on:
Share:
