Iced Tea

 

I have this dream once in awhile. Maybe it’s a notion. There have been times when the dream was brought on by a discussion or argument that I’ve had with someone about religion. I get so self righteous that I should be religious myself.  Thumping' on the Good Book and yelling' about fire and brimstone.  Instead, I get real pseudo-intellectual and point out many scientific reasons against it. I always regret these tirades.  My self-righteous a*s is scared.  I don't ever want to die.  So I guess I'm hoping' that someone stops me and proves me wrong.  Suddenly makes me see without a shadow of a doubt that there is an afterlife.  Any afterlife will do.  But they haven't, not yet.

So I have this dream. 

I'm 89 years old and I die in my sleep; comfortably, of course, it's a dream.  Within seconds, I'm standing next to a giant Pearly Gate. 

St. Peter is standing there with the little clouds all around his feet.  He's got a clipboard in his hand, and a quill pen.  He's got a cynical look on his face and he's shaking his head just slightly.  To tell the truth, he looks a lot like George Carlin. George Carlin, from like 1976 or so, with the ponytail and all.  Anyway he looks at me with a doubtful smile and says, “Look Lloyd, we decided to let you in because, even though you doubted, even though you successfully convinced other folks we weren't here, you are a pretty good fellow and we want you on the team.  Wait Lloyd, don't let out all that hot air yet, there are some ground rules. First, this is not your gig, you cannot recruit people for your own causes, we like to keep it real low key and without controversy.  Second, you are entirely too loud, please try to train yourself to speak more softly.  We like the peace.  As long as you do these things, I'm sure you'll be just fine." 

I'm absolutely thrilled and promise Pete that I'll be a model Angel.  I do get a little curious before walking' through the gate though. I ask Pete, "Hey, is it even possible for me to try and convince others of anything? I mean, isn't the power of choice kind of moot now that we are here?" 

Peter, in his ancient and never ending wisdom, looks me in the eye and says, " Lloyd, you are so wrong about so many things that I haven't got time in all eternity to explain it to you.  We have streets paved in Gold, we have all the loved ones you ever lost, and we have unending happiness and beauty. 

Why don't you just try to remain open to everything until you get the feel for it, eh?" 

I promised that I would and started forward toward the gate. St. Peter cried out, "Oh yeah, and we never run out of iced tea."

 

Reviews

[Lloyd]

Shoepolish, I have never thought of it as an atheist beverage, but you may be on to something, thanks for reading.

[shoepolish]

lol. that was funny. I love ice tea by the way, i suppose all athiests do.