Recently, during a routine bacon conversation, a friend confessed the following: “I would love it if someone would sprinkle me with bacon salt. In fact, when I die, I want to be wrapped in bacon and laid out on a giant grill. Just for show. Not for grilling.”
This made me think. Oh, I thought long and hard. About bacon. About death. About grilling.
About bacon cremation.
Just the phrase “bacon cremation” makes me feel hopeful. Of course, a typical cremation is not a public affair, but mine would be.
Instead of a dreary funeral parlor and depressing ol’ coffin, my Bacon Cremation (yes, now it’s capitalized) would take place at a forest preserve on a summer’s day. If I happen to die in the winter, my body will just be frozen or something. Because this has to happen in the summer.
Picture a large grill (not THAT large) and a pale but lovely but dead JD, dressed in her favorite dress from ebay. Strips of raw bacon are lovingly wrapped around the frail but gorgeous but pretty stiff body. A few words are spoken. Tears are shed. The bacon salt is sprinkled. Then! The grill is lit.
Are you with me on this??? It will be the world’s most awesome (and most fragrant) Viking-meat-type cremation. Instead of being all sad and grossed out, my friends and family will be sniffing the air appreciatively and thinking positive, bacony thoughts. And then there would be all kinds of bacon canapes afterward.
I Googled “bacon cremation” and discovered that there is a Bacon Funeral Home in both Iowa and Connecticut. I don’t know if this means they actually perform Bacon Cremations, but it’s worth a call.
The closest thing I found to an actual Bacon Cremation is this article on Wired, describing how Mike Nelson (of Mystery Science Theater fame) pledged to eat naught but bacon for a month. It was the final sentence that caught my eye: “If Nelson should survive the month, he will receive a prize of five pounds of bacon. If he should not survive, Nelson gets a cremation that smells like your house at brunch time on Sunday morning.”
See? I’m onto something here.
Sadly, Mike lived to tell the tale. It’s too bad. But at least now I know how I will die. I will eat naught but bacon for THREE months, and that, my friends, will ensure both a hero’s death AND extra bacon aroma at JD’s Bacon Cremation Party and Funeral.
They won’t even have to light a match.