On Death And Dying
Sue is on display at the Anchorage museum through the 18th. Her bones alone -- at least what was found, a stunning 90 percent -- weigh over three thousand pounds. Fleshed out it's been estimated she was a svelte seven tons. When you stand face to face with a sixty seven million year old T. rex you begin to think about your own age and mortality. You become envious of Sue's. You think, "What would I have to do to be preserved and discovered tens of millions of years after my death?" For Sue it was fate. But now, living in the Holocene as we do, we know the ideal conditions for preservation. We could deliberately choose our final resting place to improve our chances that our hard parts would be on display in some futuristic museum a geologic epoch or two down the road.
Take your dying breath in a shallow estuary or a calm backwater bay where tiny grains of mud and silt will quickly bury you. Fast enough not to be discovered by a modern who might call the police or drag you away to the coroner for autopsy and disposal. Yes, a stealthy burial would be required, but you'd also need the good fortune to be slowly, though gently, blanketed by more and more layers of mud and silt, which over time would compact to rock making the perfect tomb for your skeleton. Then you would just have to hope -- roll the tectonic dice that as you were shifted around the globe during the next sixty million years you were left undisturbed, and at just the right time erosion would expose your greatness. Good luck. But if you were lucky, sixty million years hence people (or whatever uprights will be called by that time) will stand around (unless they've evolved away from legs by then) gawking at you! You might want to take with you some other things that would preserve well -- a metal nameplate in amber around your neck maybe. Stamp in it your name, birth date, the precise geo-coordinates of your death (future geologists will love you for this) and perhaps the top ten reasons why you want your skeleton placed on display.
Hey, it's a long shot for sure, but I'm thinking if Master and I did this, together we'd be a great paleontogogical find. Imagine the headline: "SIXTY MILLION YEAR OLD BIPED AND COMPANION DISCOVERED IN EARTH ROCK FORMATION." Now that's immortality.