HEAVEN CAN WAIT!

Many years ago, before TLW (The Little Woman) tried to get me to heaven, my mother took on a similar task. Mom had a saying: “Nothing is impossible.” Then she would look at me and say: “OK, so I spoke too soon, get that stupid look off your face!”

Sister Hairy Mary is third from the left

For years mom sent me to Catholic school where the best disciplinarians tried their hand, ruler and pointer at getting me to heaven. Some of these nuns were former aids to the German National Socialist party during the late 30’s and early 40’s. All have failed, and poor mom, would take up the cause as soon as I got home from school.  

A promise of Heaven

My grandmother, a religious sort herself, too gave it a shot, telling me that if I went to heaven I could have all the pork Brazziole there is. I would look at grandpa, and he would nod: “No”, then I realized he was just sleeping sitting up!

"I give up, DelBloggolo is never gonna  make it!"

Now the unthinkable has happened: the Pope quit, and I have no one but myself to blame for this. I am sure he feels a bitter pill has been swallowed by my not going to church anymore, that the legions of Heaven have been let down and the forces of Hell strengthened. But I figured, before I go there I would do what I think needs to be done and try to live like I actually thought I was headed up instead of down. I try to do things that help people, give to worthy causes and listen to everyone that needs to vent themselves. This takes up time and prevents me from getting into more trouble.

Recently I went to a fundraiser for a local fire department. For 30 bucks a head, you got to eat out of Styrofoam plates and plastic spoons and cups,  a dish of pasta and two meatballs, a small salad and a piece or two of bread. This was a sacrifice from my usual Saturday night meal of a steak and salad. This is real sacrifice my friends. The saving grace was I got to see my old classmates form high school. There was a group that entertained us and I enjoyed the music, company and the food although good, was sufficient in taste and quantity. However there was unintentional entertainment that did not go unnoticed.

Out on the dance floor where the age range was from the late 40’s to the early ancient, was a couple. Spastic Jim and Paula Pole danced. They were a young couple for the dance floor, he was about 89 going on 110, and she was 110 and had passed away sometime ago but forgot to lie down! Spastic Jim would shake rattle and roll, jerky motions with spastic fluidity, and Paula, well Paula looked like a string bean, generating electricity that was feeding Spastic Jim. Paula Pole would stand in one spot while Spastic jumped, shook, stamped, stomped and almost stood on his head to the music! This is OK, and I don’t mean to sound mean but this was dancing to a slow dance!

Now as I write this you know why I will never get to heaven. I mean, here I am making fun of these two I am sure very nice people, yet I can’t help myself, but neither did all the church goers who remarked at the spectacle to me!

This is good news, because it means I probably won’t be alone down there!

Will I be seeing ‘ya down there too? Ask for: Del Bloggolo.