My Heaven

854268 – angel on cloud 9

            I do a lot of reading in whatever spare time I can find and one author who never fails to tickle my funny bone with his brand of humor is Mark Twain.

            I was looking over one of his books again for the third or fourth time just a few days ago. It is a really funny piece of literature called “Letters From the Earth.” In the book, Twain makes fun of a lot of people, things and ideas, and he spares no one.  There are no “sacred cows” or items that are off limits to him. One of the things that he finds particularly amusing is the image or the picture that man has about heaven and what heaven will be like.

            Twain thinks its funny that everything we like to do here on earth: partying, drinking, sex, hunting, sports, poker – the things that we like best – are absent from heaven.

             Anytime someone wants to depict a person who is in heaven they draw a picture of a person who has one of those pure white hospital type gowns, has a pair of wings, – and plays the harp while sitting barefoot on a cloud. Looks real peaceful, but that is not Twain’s idea of heaven and I have to admit – it isn’t my idea either.

            In the first place, I never was that comfortable in a hospital gown. The few times I had to wear them, I really hated them. For me, an old pair of soft corduroy trousers and sweatshirt represent something closer to heaven and my feet get cold when they aren’t in shoes. I can’t imagine going to a place so wonderful without moccasin/slippers or sneakers.

            And as for those wings – well, I hope they wouldn’t be standard issue. They look like a big bother to me. Going in and out of doorways would be a problem, revolving doors would be a hazard and I like to sleep on my back. I guess if flying is the way to get around – could I have a cape, like Superman? If capes are out of the question, couldn’t I trade my set of wings in for a Harley?

            Now, about the Harp. That is not how I want to spend my time. I didn’t take the time to learn harp here on earth for a reason. I don’t like harp music! Whoever gives all those harp lessons up there has got to be pretty overworked already without trying to teach a tone-deaf musical hopeless like me to play. And why the harp? Why not a bassoon or trombone? I don’t want to play the harp.

            I would imagine that sitting on a cloud would have to be a pleasant experience. They sure do look soft and all. But a bean bag chair is soft too and eventually, they get a little uncomfortable.

            If heaven is as great as I think it would be, then I would like to be reunited with my old, massive, high backed, mustard yellow, appropriately stained but always comfortable football T.V. chair. (One of my ex-wives threw it out on the junk pile and it was picked up before I could save it.) I will admit that it was ugly, but it had been with me through 17 NFL seasons and 6 moves. Since everyone is a saint in heaven, I think that they will be more tolerant of what I park my keester in than some people on earth are.

             One thing that almost all the clergymen I know can agree upon is that nobody knows what heaven is like. We all sort of having our own ideas. So what’s my idea of heaven? I thought you would never ask.

            Heaven is a place where all the pets I have had in my lifetime will be waiting for me, and I will have enough time to play with them.

            Heaven is a place where I will get all the socks back that I have lost in dryers or washers while I was here on earth.

            In my heaven, pecan pies, chocolate iced donuts, malted milk, cream cheese frosting, and whipped cream do not contain calories.

            In my heaven, pizza and cheesecake are good for you and prunes and broccoli are to be avoided at all cost.

            Also, in my heaven:

                        – The Vikings would win a Super Bowl and Bud Grant would come back as coach.

                        – Neckties aren’t required.

                        – There will be none of those annoying COPD commercials with grandpa wheezing and his grandchildren saying just like you Grandpa.

                        – Bread pudding, breakfast rolls, (or anything else), will not have raisins in them.

                        – The Twins will win the World Series in 7 games every year.

                        – My cotton underwear will always remain soft and dry and will not chafe, even if I jog.

                        – I will not have to jog.

                        – Big tummies will be very sexy on men.

                        – I will never run out of hot water.

– I will have healthy knees and the ski slopes will always have fresh powdered snow.

I will drive a Corvette.

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