Growing up, there was a great commercial for Pringles with the catchphrase, "Once you pop, you can't stop." The expression referred to popping open a can of Pringles. Unlike traditional potato chips, which were bag packaged, Pringles were dispensed in a cool can. I never gave thought to the Pringles Can until earlier this month when I saw the headline, The Man Buried in a Pringles Can.
Fredric Baur, the creator of the Pringles Can, wished for his ashes to be placed in a Pringles Can upon his death. As written in the aforementioned article
...when Frederic Baur died after a battle with Alzheimer's, Larry [his son] and his siblings stopped at Walgreen's for a burial can of Pringles on their way to the funeral home. "My siblings and I briefly debated what flavor to use," Baur says, "but I said, 'Look, we need to use the original.
Ignoring the Jewish view of cremation for a moment (for the record; against), we've become a society that belittles death and deceased. Solemn funerals are old fashioned. The trend now is for a custom casket, preferably one emblazoned with the
deceased's favorite team's logo. Or a casket that when opened plays music from the
deceased's favorite band. Or a can of
Pringles (preferably Original Flavor).
A discussion needs to start about proper burial rites. Last week, I attended a Volunteer Conference for Baby Boomers. An elderly non-Jewish person came up to me and said,
When I die, I want a Jewish funeral. There's so much extra today that's ridiculous, and expensive. I just want a plain box and a plain service.
I'm not advocating Jewish burials for everyone, but I think people need to stop and recognize the waste in today's funeral market, as well as recognizing that despite the
deceased's request, a
Pringles Can is not a proper final resting place.