Oh God - Part Nineteen

Oh God – Part Nineteen

            “Intel? That’s information you gather about somebody you’re snoopin’ on.”

            “Would that be like intelligence?”

            “Ya, somethin’ like that.”

            “You talk funny, Schwartz.”

            “That’s how everybody talks these days.”

            “Why? What’s wrong with sayin’ the word ‘intelligence’?”

            “It’s too long! Nobody’s got time for that.”

            “What? You got that much to talk about, or too much to do?”

            “Both,” said Schwartz. “Life gets busier and busier. That’s why we have to rely on acronyms in order to get everything said and done.”

            “Schwartz,” said God, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “You’re sittin’ here at our dinner table, havin’ a conversation an’ I don’t see anythin’ that’s so busy we haven’t got time to talk about it.”

            “Ah, time. That was probably one of the dumbest things you people ever thought up. I gave you time. I gave you daylight and darkness. Your ancestors used it well and wisely. They lived according to its law and did so very well. So what’s your problem?” asked God.

            “Well there are so many things to do and to discover about our world, we just don’t have the time to do it all!”

            “Well. LOL with that!”

            Schwartz was trying very hard to control his frustration. “That’s not even the right acronym,” he snorted.

            “I know,” laughed God, “but it works either way, doesn’t it?”

            Schwartz couldn’t say anything.

Oh God - Part Eighteen

Oh God – Part Eighteen

            “I hear you’ve got Alf Loewen up here to fix Tony’s harp,” commented God casually, sitting suddenly beside Schwartz. “Good move.”

            “If I can make St. Peter happy, it’ll be a relief,” replied Schwartz. “Loewen’s pretty good at what he does.”

            “No question. Professionally he’s the best. Personally – well that’s another matter. But I’ll leave you with him.”

            Schwartz left Tony washing and straightening his wings, humming a haunting little tune, and went looking for old acquaintances he might encounter. There were so many people here he found it hard to focus. Oddly enough they seemed to all know one another. He didn’t know anybody.

            Loewen, having finished with Tony’s harp, commented to Schwartz, “Nice place you got here.”

            “Thanks, I like it.”

            “How’d you get here anyways?”

            “I don’t really know. I was workin’ on makin’ a new language for people to use universally when I suddenly ended up here talkin’ to God. It seems he gets a little crotchety when people are tryin’ to figure out is world.  They keep tryin’ an’ he keeps catchin’ them. Since I was workin’ on that project, I guess he figured we needed to have a chat.”

            “Strange,” said Loewen. “After what I done in my ‘alive’ world, I never thought I’d end up here.”

            “You sound remorseful Loewen.”

            “Of course I’m remorseful. Who wouldn’t be? When you’re alive in the real world you do such stupid things that ya can’t take back. There should be a set of instructions that come with bein’ born,” Loewen lamented.

            “I think there is,” noted Schwartz. “I’m gonna find out, get some intel from my grandma. She’s gotta be up here somewhere’s.”

            “What’s an ‘intel’,” Loewen wanted to know.

Oh God - Part Seventeen

Oh God – Part Seventeen

“Schwartz, you haven’t even met any of your contemporaries yet. I would suggest you spend some time getting to know some people. It’s surprising what and who you may find here. First thing you know, you’ll be busier than you’ve ever been,” God smiled.

            Well, good idea thought Schwartz and started to look around. Low and behold, the first person he met was Tony Bennett. He didn’t even know Tony was dead, but here he was, singing away sadly while washing his face in a little hand bowl. His angel wings were all crooked and dirty and an old harp with several broken strings lay at his feet.

            “Holy Hannah!” exclaimed Schwartz, “If it isn’t Tony Bennett! What are you doing here? You look a total mess!”

            “I am a mess,” whimpered Tony, “it’s awful.”

            “What happened, Tony?”

            “The thing is that during my lifetime, I grew up with my boyhood buddy Sam Frank. We made a solemn promise that when the last one of us died, we’d meet up. Turns out he was designated to hell. So I begged my way into going down to see him for an hour or so. Turns out he’d never mended his ways and he had a little Bistro down there- wild place. We had a blast, just like in the good old days but when I realized what time it was I ripped outa there with my wings all bent and of all things, I left my harp in Sam Frank’s Bistro. I finally got it back, but look at the shape it’s in.”

            “A sad story for sure Tony, but maybe I can help. I remember seein’ Alf Loewen, the piano man down there a while back. I imagine he can fix up your harp. I’ll see if I can get him to help.”

            “Oh that would be amazing! I just don’t want St. Peter to be mad at me anymore.”

            “Aw relax Tony. Why don’t ya write a song about it. That’s what ya do ain’t it?”

            “Ya, that’s what I do. . . . ‘I left my harp . . . in Sam Frank’s Bistro . . .catchy first line Tony admitted.” He was happy.

            And Schwartz was happy too. The thrill of accomplishment rippled through his soul. He’d get Tony’s harp fixed an’ at the same time have a new recruit for God’s endless dinner table (maybe).

Oh God - Part Sixteen

Oh God – Part Sixteen

Thinking there must be a downside to living in heaven with God and the multitude gathered around his table, Schwartz tried to analyze the pros and cons of it all. Not that he had any great attachment to Satan, but there was the excitement of the art of the con that he was used to and good at. He’d never be able to practice that here. He’d have to find a new discipline to practice so he didn’t get bored. First thing he’d better do was to make some friends if he was to stay here.

            The thing that worried him about staying in hell was what God had said about judgment day was that Satan would be released and he would turn the heat up in hell to fry all its residents in an eternal fire. That was not cool (to coin a phrase), unless there was some truth to the story about the Toronto Maple Leafs winning the Stanley cup. But he was doubtful about that. He just didn’t fancy bein’ fried into eternity.

            On the heaven side, he had the pleasantries of conversation at the family dinner table which was nice and comfortable. It would expand as he made friends and met new people. Mind you, there was Petronela and her iron-fisted discipline about cussin’ an’ civility. But that was a minor irritant he’d likely get over in time. The only question was if he could stay here after being judged as he surely would be.

            Things were weighing heavily in favor of heaven for Schwartz. Surely he would be able to incorporate his freewheeling ways up here to one degree or another. Surely God must give him some degree of latitude in this. It was one of the few talents he had and without the ability to make a deal, what else would he do? Schwartz had almost decided for certain he would take his chances and stay in heaven. There were too many good things here to go back to that potential fire pit. If he had to learn something new, he’d do it. God would certainly have some suggestions. Well, they were at the family table after all where you could discuss things and come out with a compromise of sorts. ‘Okay, that’s it! I’ll mend my ways and stay,’ he muttered under his breath.

            Magically, God was again sitting at the table next to Schwartz and the latter suddenly realized the power of this guy. This was not somebody you wanted to fool around with. “It’s something you have to follow through on yourself,” God continued, as though he had never left.         “The thing you want to do Schwartz,” God said, “is to focus on your path from here on in, once you have determined what that path is.”

            “That’s just what I wanted to discuss with you God,” replied Schwartz.

“Good thing Schwartz. That’s why we have this lovely dinner table.”

            “The thing is, that I’m in a bit of a dilemma. Down in hell I’ve got all kinds of latitude to do my thing – exercise my talents as it were. If I give that up, exactly what will I have to do here?”

            “Good question,” God replied.