When media theorist Marshall McLuhan said media would become extensions of ourselves, I don't think he thought we'd be forever connected. Apparently, our culture of intangible connections through our cell phones is becoming so significant it has become a burial accountrement, as much as our clothing signifies our self beyond our skin. We are left naked and bare without this symbolic link to our identity.
This tech appendage makes presence less literal, in life as well as death.
A deceased Manhattan lawyer was buried with his cellphone and his number is inscribed on his headstone under the words Rest in Peace. His family still leaves messages and pays the bill, according to the article in December's New York Post (via textually.org).
So much for the idea that you can't take it with you. Hang on to that number. It is you. The mobile you, six feet under even. I never thought when we kept our Atlanta cell number when we moved to NYC then to Santa Fe that I would be forever marked as a Southerner. My friends know me as 404, still. Sometime after we left Texas cell phone numbers could be kept and are no longer linked to place. I think I need a new permanent number. I never thought about heavenly connections in quite this way. Death does no have to be the end. If the bill gets paid.