What if the peoples of antiquity were wise to include "grave goods" in the tombs of their loved ones? I'd hate to think of my dearly departed marooned on the Other Side without a bowl of wheat and a jug of wine to sustain them for all eternity. Yet that's distinctly possible. Heaven might be full of mendicant Americans, buried with nothing but a shroud, begging for crumbs from well-provided-for ancient Assyrians and Egyptians. I wonder what the cuneiform for "Buddy can you spare a dime" is?
We don't even bother to offer a few coins for Charon the ferryman these days, either, which seems rather shortsighted and tightfisted considering the consequences. Apparently, those poor souls who cannot pay the boat fare are doomed to wander the desolate shores for one hundred years. So I hope the Lord of the Underworld has built an untolled bridge across the rivers of Hades by now. God knows trying to swim across the Styx and Acheron must be worse than snorkeling through a third world sewer.
This is why my Will contains instructions to bury me with a can of cashew nuts, a chunk of Gouda, three bottles of Margaux, freshly ground coffee, my favorite books, and an army of GI Joe action figures in case I need to defend my grave goods from mournful shades foolish enough to be laid to rest without a picnic basket. Obviously, I will gladly share my Elysian bounty with readers of this blog, although I assume you will all be equipped with your own afterlife goody bags anyway if you've read this post. Cheers!
