Monday, December 19, 2011

Electrical Greetings

Charlie: "According to my schematic here, blue bulb #29,682 is burned out on the tree angel."

Martha: "You know what you can do with blue bulb #29,682, don't you?"

Season's Greetings to All

. . . And Especially to Your Loving Families

Martha: [*sigh*] "You're going to sit there and pout until I change blue bulb #29,682, aren't you."

Charlie: [*pouting*] "I just want the place to look nice for all my Blogger friends, that's all."

* * *

This is NOT our house--the photo is from the Huffington Post.

Sunday, December 11, 2011


It’s finally official. I have decided that, once my lungs cease laboring and I leave this place, I’m going to Heaven.

Oh, not the Heaven of the theologians, the allegorists and apologists, the philosophers, the clergy and charlatans and con men because none of them seem to know much more about it than choirs of chubby cherubs.

Nevertheless, I call the place I’m going "Heaven" because I don’t want to confuse. Saying, “I’m going to Turnip after I die,” doesn't make a whole lot of sense, does it. Plus, I truly believe that Heaven exists somewhere in the Universe, much different from the centuries of speculation by the sages.

Since no one has ever been there and back again, I believe I can speculate with the best of them. I mean, who can say that I’m wrong—and prove it?

The best thing is I’ve had a lot of time to construct my vision of Heaven and it has taken my fear of death completely away.

So. What will Heaven be like?

The first stop on my journey will be the Rainbow Bridge to pick up my best friends. (PLEASE read this if you have not.)  Jennifer, Fred, Punkers, and Molly are waiting for me there and, when we spot each other, I can't imagine the happiness there will be knowing we will never ever be separated again.

This may sound corny to non-pet people and that’s okay. But to all the theological experts who say animals don’t have souls and cannot go to Heaven, please PROVE it to me. I choose to believe that I will spend eternity with my pets and that gives me something to look forward to as I lay here, waiting.

Eternity: the best weapon preachers have to scare the Hell into us with the assurance we will burn in agony forever and ever and ever and ever . . .

The notion of eternal torture has worked well on me, ever since I was a tiny boy. It has caused me a lifetime of guilt, shame, and fear when in fact the notion is wrong. Wrong, because eternity denotes time, and time is a man-made concept. Heaven won’t have time; there will be no days, years, millenium or schedules to clean the top of the refrigerator. Life will always be in the present.

Living in the present rules out living in the past, which we all do no matter how hard we try not to. In Heaven, there will be no more bad memories, regrets, fear, or sorrow. I will live, for the first time in sixty-some years, totally at peace—totally tranquil and serene, instead of depressed and randomly attacked by panic. I will feel the calm and stillness inside me, indescribable happiness, and that gives me something to look forward to as I lay here, waiting.

And while the dogs and I are hiking through our Heavenly forest and communing with all the animals and birds that live here, Martha will be standing on the path, smiling, her arms spread wide, coming home to join us. . . .