Random Ideas

Here are some quick calculations leading up to my first big idea. All these numbers are very approximate. Their are about three hundred million people in the USA. If you figure a life span of about eighty years, that means about four million die each year. Allowing fifty square feet of ground space for each corpse to bury all of these people, (I'm ignoring cremation, people lost at sea, and others that just go missing.) this works out to be about seven square miles of new burial space needed each year. There's about three million five hundred and thirty seven thousand square miles of land in the United States, so you would think that we have plenty of space for our deceased for at least the near future, but, when you plant a field full of people, it becomes pretty much useless for any other purpose.

So here's my idea for making multi purpose use of our burial sites. The memorial garden people should go into the golf course business. They could ban the use of those plastic floral arrangements that really aren't fooling anybody anyway. If a ball ends up on top of one of those plaques, a drop would be in order. When someone is buried, the grounds people could erect a net between the tent and the tee, to protect the unsuspecting mourners from the errant ball. (Again, a drop would be allowed to give the golfer a straight shot at the green.) There would finally be an excuse for all that whispering.

The owners of the garden/golf course could charge a premium for the best burial spots. Around the greens would be popular, as would anything around the eighteenth hole. The sand traps would not be great places to rest in eternity, but they do have a certain ironic appeal. The phrase, gone but not forgotten, might even become true. As the golfers are waiting their turns, or lining up a shot, they might notice the plaque of a long dead relative or friend. I expect that there might be incentive for people to leave more succinct messages on their plaques.

I've even got a theme song for the course, and a name.

There's a golfer I know
And his bones are all cold
And he's lying in the Fair Way To Heaven (That's the name I had in mind.)