Last Rights and First Rights

I'm sitting here watching the cars go by, sipping hot coffee, smelling yellow Jasmine underneath some overgrown Palm trees. Barefoot wearing jeans and my Samuel Adams Band tee shirt, I am glad that it is Friday. I want to dance at Doc's tonight.

Doc's is the oldest bar on Tybee Island, Georgia where I live. When I first went, "Doc" actually owned the place and I was with my Dad. We split a pitcher of Past Blue Ribbon and talked about things. There were two guys sitting down the bar from us and they were on their third or forth pitcher of PBR. They were loud and their conversation was fascinating so Dad and I grew silent and listened.

"I know how we can make a living," the first said. "We go into the burial at sea business."

"We got get to a boat," replied his partner.

"Yeah, I know, but think about it. Everybody wants to get buried at sea. We'll make a killing."

"That's funny!" the partner laughted as he poured them another one.

"We'll take the family and the coffin out a little bit, not too far, then we'll drop the coffin in the ocean, bring family back and serve Mimosa's."

They tapped their mugs together before the partner protested, "Wait a minute. Coffins float."

"Shit!" said the master mind.

The two stared off into space, lost in thought.

"I got it!" the master mind announced. "Led coffins. We'll have to use led coffins so they'll sink."

They toasted again.

"You know what?" the partner asked. "If we keep going to the same spot using led coffins we'll eventually build an artifical reef. Fish will be everywhere."

Mastermind slapped his hands on DOc's Bar. "Last rights and first rights!"

"What?"

"Last rights and first rights. We bury the dead and give the family a license for fishing rights at our reef. They'll be a lot of repeat business. Who gets repeat business doing funerals?"

"You're brilliant!"

Dad and I tapped our mugs at their thought processes. It was indeed brilliant.