HEAVEN MAY BE DIFFERENT THAN YOU THINK

My very good friend Bentley (his first name is really Alan but just Bentley sounds so much more English Upscale) has informed me that although we both believe in a life hereafter ,and can achieve some sort of immortal glory based on our works on earth when we die; as we await the great resurrection, he believes we will be assigned to a temporary place in heaven according to our last and final dying words here on earth.
Yes, until the resurrection, we will be with all those other people who said the same thing we did when they died. Here are the categories ranked in order of most said to least said.
Oh s—t.
Hey watch this.
I’m not drunk; I’ll drive myself.
I can drive, talk on my cell and text at the same time. Watch.
The guns not loaded, see.
I wasn’t cheating on you. Put down the gun.
I’m fine. I make a doctor’s appointment next week.
If one pill will work, a whole bunch must be even better
No big deal. It’s not 220 Volts is only 110
What’s this bare wire for?
No I don’t think 92 is too old to be driving.
Sure the water is cold but I can swim to shore.
Lets cross here; the crosswalk is too far down the street.
If I throw up every time I eat, I won’t gain any weight.
I don’t feel good.
Good bye, I love you all.
Oops!
Huh?

I on the other hand, I believe that I will get to use my “Bank Time” when I get to heaven’s gate. I will be met by one of those guys that checks recommends at the temple, who will look for a long time at his computer screen and say “Well brother Frank it looks like you lived a pretty good life but there were a few sour deeds in your life for which you will need to spend 952 hours in Hell before being assigned to one of the above mentioned categories. At that point I will whip out my little black “Bank Time” book and explain that I spent many more hours than that in faculty meetings, PTA meetings, elementary school concerts, children’s Sacrament Meeting programs, parent- teacher conferences, Blue and Gold dinners, eating freeze dried food on week- long hikes, owning a 1985 Chrysler New Yorker, and preparing for my last colonoscopy. I will tactfully explain that I have already spent that time in Hell and have documents to prove it. I recommend that each of you keep track as well.
Thanks for listening, I feel much better

The Office

Sometime towards the end of September, I got a call from the Human Resources department of State Farm Insurance. They asked if I would be willing to come back to work for sixty days, they were shorthanded and honestly, it was flattering to be considered a good enough employee to be asked back. I figured what the heck, work for sixty days and be able to fly to Cartagena Columbia first class to visit Emily and her family or sixty days home detention.
The first problem was HR. My assigned rep. Bea Esser said that because I had been retired so long I would have to take a drug test and pass a background check. She said she would send me the paperwork overnight. Two days later it got to me. She sent it FedEx to the wrong address and wrong name. Three day delay. I finally got a call three weeks after she first called andlearned I was cleared to come to work. Obviously they did not speak with my parole officer Willy Bolt. After I had been working for two weeks, I got a letter from the medical specialist Lou Pole saying that my retirement package health insurance was being cancelled because I was a full time worker. The only problem was that I was actually listed as a seasonal employee and not qualified for any benefits. I called and spoke to Donatello Nobatti who told me a mistake had been made and he would take care of it. I am still waiting for the confirmation of reinstatement by mail. Actually, I am entitled to work 900 hours a year before it impacts any of my retirement benefits. Those responsible have been sacked.

I cannot watch “The Office” on TV because it is too much like where I work. The above photo is the row where my cubicle is located. I say cubicle but in reality they should be called rabbit hutches. Feed and water are provided in little bins on the side of each cube. If management feels rewards are in order, food appears in a vacant cube or at the end of the row. There are four rows just like this in my office. The managers, pit bosses and stat freaks have partitioned booths at the end of the rows. The big boss, Dan Defino, has a corner office with windows. Speaking of the big boss, there was a ‘Stand Up Meeting” a couple of days ago where we were all given a pat on the back for rendering exceptional customer service. I looked around at the group and immediately picked out the current office suck-up. Luke Howard Fitzhugh had on the exact same shirt and tie, pants and shoes as the Big Boss. Obviously someone is looking for a promotion. My guess is that he has already reached his level of competence and should be promoted to a management position within days. Holly Unlikely, the trainer said she did not think the promotion would come until after National Bosses Day. Something about gifting.

The Office is just like the classes I taught for thirty years. There are slow learners, those that don’t play well with others and those who parents need to read to them 90 min each day. There are those who try to cheat and manipulated the computer system to show they do more work that they actually do. One example is the electronic phone message. If you return a call you are suppose to use the pull down menu to add your name as the one who returned the call. Since I am a trouble maker, I pull a lot of those messages, make the call and then give credit to anyone of a half a dozen adjusters who I think could use the points. It really kills the manager’s stats. I think I’ll change my name to Dale Neverknow.

Most days I really enjoy it, but there are a few days where upon leaving the office I quote Martin Luther King Jr. “Free at last, free at last, Thank God I’m free at last.
Thanks for listening. I feel much better