I Dreamed Last Night I Was on a Boat to Heaven

The Grim Reaper has been having a busy year. After working doubleplus overtime in Southeast Asia, scooping all those unwary shore-dwellers in December, he's now focusing on higher profile celebrity cases. In just the last week or so the Op Ed pages have been filling up with such diverse subjects as Pope John Paul, Terri Schiavo, Johnny Cochran, Saul Bellow, Prince Rainier of Monaco, and Frank Perdue. It is a measure of our current culture how much ink has been spent on each demise.

The pomp and circumstance of the Pope's funeral is unmatched in my memory--not JFK, nor Reagan, nor any other Pope or political figure has attracted such a barrage of mourners. The line in Rome extended five miles, with a waiting period of fourteen hours, until it was finally shut down. I shudder to think what the airports have been like. Meanwhile, all our sanctimonious leaders--the two Bushes and Clinton--have been bowing at his bier. Carter, also born-again, couldn't make it. Ford is still tripping on the ninth fairway. Prince Charles and his equine girlfriend Camilla have put off their wedding a week in respect. This kind of pageantry--so typical in its splendor for an institution that exploits rural poverty to spread its message--makes my eyes roll in exasperation. At least the funeral hasn't pre-empted "Survivor."

The next most egregious funeral has been Johnny Cochran's. Okay, this guy was a very capable lawyer, and a pillar of pride for the Black community, but he did help a despicable double murderer get off the hook, which ought to at least earn him some waiting time in Limbo. Any African American celebrities not willing to jump on the papal funeral wagon found a substitute here. Look, there's O.J. Simpson! There's Michael Jackson! And Stevie Wonder! Betcha no Fred Goldman.

Saul Bellow's passing was noted only by and for the few literate people who don't get their news from Fox or CNN. His obit in the L.A. Times was respectable, and I did watch a rather dry analysis of his work on PBS. But novelists, ironically, get less print than anyone else. They are the shepherds and cobblers of the modern age of communications, as relevant and familiar to the emerging generation as Victor Herbert or Jerome Kern. I don't think his funeral will be televised.

Terri Schiavo, who passively moved into the history books after no achievement whatsoever but overreating and suffering grotesque consequences, did not have a funeral either. As usual, the two sides arguing over her life-ending procedures are still at it, dickering over the ultimate burial place of her ashes. The disgraceful worldwide brouhaha over her fate has ebbed, thanks in part to the Pope's timely departure. Prince Rainier, who ruled for 57 years over that comic opera principality, would probably have gotten a little more attention funeral-wise had he not died among so much competition, or if Princess Grace had not preceded him by twenty years. He'll be lucky if he attracts Tom DeLay and Queen Noor of Jordan. As for poor Frank Perdue, well, he was long overshadowed by Colonel Sanders, and barely gets a nod of recognition, though he was highly visile on the tube a few decades back.

Although it is highly unlikely that these folks exist in any form other than decomposing protoplasm, it tickles me a bit to imagine them all together rowing in that boat to Heaven, discussing their lives and attitudes, much like the historical characters brought to life in Steve Allen's old "Meeting of the Minds" series. What would Saul Bellow have to say about the Pope's retrograde attitudes? Would Johnny Cochran have a few thoughts regarding Terri Schiavo and/or how our national legislature violated the Constitutional rights of the judiciary in tampering with her case? And wouldn't Terri be just salivating to try one of Frank Perdue's chicken recipes after all those years having curds and whey pumped into her abdomen like so much diesel gas? As for Prince Rainier--well he would be anxious, literally, to see and say "Grace" once more.

An edgy comedy show like SNL might be tempted to produce a sketch based on this concept, but the current spritual zeitgeist would probably prevent it from being aired. Though I think at least Bellow would get a kick out of it--sort of a final bellow laugh.