1. Never prepay. When the pre-need, prepaid contract was signed eighteen years ago (by the now-deceased, who did so because she didn't want to be a burden to anyone), it was a complete package funeral/burial deal, since the funeral home and cemetery were owned by the same parent. The parent company subsequently went bankrupt and the two entities now have different owners. Promised interest on these funds has never been paid because the trust fund has been poorly managed by the holding corporation.

Better to set aside the money in a money market or conservative mutual fund (in a joint account with someone who can access it) and use it to pay for a funeral when needed.

Twenty years ago, funeral homes used to send a bill, offering a hefty discount for fast pay. (I seem to recall 10% off if full payment was received in 5 days.) Now everything is prepay - cash, check, Visa or MasterCard. No discounts.

2. The casket showroom has disappeared. That space has been turned into a merchandising extravaganza with track-lit slatwall panels showing urns, trinkets, color samples and swatches, markers, flower arrangements, scale models of burial vaults as well as corner sections of caskets rather than the real, full-size box. These corner sections are "less intimidating to families", I was told. It seemed very department store-like to me. I prefer the old display rooms - chock full of caskets placed at different angles to one another, looking a bit like Dracula's basement.

The most expensive casket offered was a bronze number by Batesville Casket Co., called 'The Persian'. Given that The Nation Formerly Known As Persia is building nuclear bombs to vaporize Israel and then annihilate The Great Satan (that would be us), I'm surprised that Batesville hasn't changed the name to something more ... um ... American. May I suggest 'The Patriot'. It also begins with P.**

This may just be my Car Guy Gene kicking in, but if you want to sell me a $7,000 casket, you'd better have the whole thing on display. I'll never buy a an S-Class Mercedes if all I can look at is a fender and a photo.

3. You can take it with you. Some wood caskets now have special little slide out drawers in the lid to hold mementos, jewelry, medals and trinkets to be buried with the deceased. Now grave robbers will know exactly where to look.

4. There is more (tasteless) merchandise than ever. Necklaces with tiny vials for cremains, inscribed glass memorial paperweights, personalized-engraved photo frames, etc. And the seemingly-ubiquitous Thomas Kinkade-branded dreck (see my December 7, 2005 blog posting for more comments about Tommy K. stuff). Something for every (bad) taste and pocketbook, I guess.

Since the funeral industry seems to be selling everything else, I was surprised no one offers a line of stuffed animals for the grieving: Doleful Dog, Mourning Moose, Remorseful Rooster, Hysterical Hippo, Sad Seal, Woeful Wallaby and Outcast the Otter, representing that special friend or relative that everyone hopes doesn't show up at the funeral. An battery-powered version of Outcast could also be sold. It would drunkenly sing hymns off-key and vomit at the push of a button.

Of course, no plush funeral collection would be complete without the talking Evangelical Egret, squawking endlessly about "Jesus" to anyone it encounters. Favorite phrase: "Are you saved yet?" We experienced one of these obnoxious, proselytizing phonies this week. She was worse than an obsessive-compulsive version of Ned Flanders on crack.

5. There is no longer as much 'service' in funeral service. Funeral fees used to include all the little things - placing the obituary in the newspaper, visitor sign-in books, use of the funeral chapel, little memorial cards with the deceased's name imprinted on them, etc. No more. These are now 'unbundled' and must be paid for separately.

When asked about the obituary, the funeral director handed us a guide sheet and told us to contact the newspaper directly. The pre-purchase contract called for 'use of facilities' but we were told this simply meant the refrigerator and other backroom equipment. Use of the chapel for a half-hour service was quoted at $450 additional. (We arranged to hold a memorial service elsewhere.)

My daughter purchased a very nice guest book at a retail stationery store - at less than half of the funeral home's asking price. She also produced a large collage of photos mounted on posterboard which was displayed at the service. My son, who is a professional graphic artist, designed a moving and meaningful four-color tribute folder and had it printed. My daughter-in-law supplied baskets to hold sympathy cards and to dispense the memorial folders. We arranged for flowers ourselves. For background music, we played a CD which I burned - a selection of the deceased's favorite piano instrumentals. As a family, we turned this situation into an advantage, making the service unique, personal and far more memorable than a standardized, packaged funeral parlor offering.

Such unbundling and revenue-seeking is apparently a common practice in the funeral biz today and may, indeed, be beneficial to some consumers but it is disconcerting to anyone used to the 'old' system.

Speaking of revenue-seeking, the local newspaper used to publish obituaries at no charge. Faced with declining readership and subscription dollars, it now charges $150 to $200 a pop, paid in advance.

6. Please die on schedule. In the 1950s, a funeral industry trade association used to run magazine ads with the theme "we serve your needs ... in any weather ... at any hour ... in any situation." (One ad featured a sketch of a well-dressed, somber man ringing a doorbell in a pouring rainstorm on a dark night.) It has now become customary to charge an extra fee if an after-hours pickup is required. I don't know if there's an additional fee if it's raining. (Well, the hearse gets dirty and someone has to pay for washing it.)

Try to pass away during regular business hours, unless you want your estate to fork over an extra $85 or so.