So, dear reader, we continue with the saga of the rabid dog and his angry antics. I finally detached his slobbery jaw from my computer’s virtual leg and was minding my own business, wondering how I was going to keep my family safe from some of the more unsavory junk on the internet, when I received a call from John Ahlander, who is one of the principles at K9 Web Protection, a division of BlueCoat. They are the trainers and former handlers of the guard dog that attacked my computer. He was very gracious and expressed his dismay at my predicament. He explained that there are over a million virtual guard dogs dispatched throughout the country, guarding families just like mine and that very few of them have turned on those families. Mine was a special case, with some unusual circumstances. He offered some explanations as to what happened to my dog and, after some discussion, we were able to narrow it down to a few things, but nothing definite.
Because the software is free, and because most all of the dogs are well behaved, there isn’t a lot of need, nor a lot of money to justify a large, extensive support staff, which I discovered when I looked to them for help. After discussing these items, we decided to run an experiment. I was going to download another dog and have a second go at it, so to speak. We are going to endeavor to tempt the dog to see if it will attack its owner again. If it does, Mr Ahlander has pledged his personal help, giving me his email address and business phone number. One can't ask any more than that from a company.
So, as we speak, the dog is wandering the virtual junk yard we affectionately call the internet, protecting my family from the virtual mail man in the event he tries to deliver Smut Magazine this month. So far, so good. The dog is doing his job, and we’re still able to use the internet. Well, kinda. We have another problem with a virus or piece of malware that is blocking Facebook and MySpace. We are currently in heated battle with this little devil using every weapon in our arsenal - AVG, Adaware, Spybot, and Malware bytes - to defeat and destroy this bad boy.
So, all is well that ends well. I appreciate Mr. Ahlander taking time out of his busy schedule to call me, some insignificant spec in the middle of nowhere, and offer his help. That shows a lot of class and devotion to service. In the end, I’ll have to retract some of my statements about k9 Webprotection and say that if you want to protect your family from the evils that lurk on the internet, K9 is a viable option.
Stay tuned to this station for a complete recap of our upcoming trip to Northern California to visit the redwoods, Pacific ocean, Oregon coast and impromptu family reunion in Eugene, Oregon next week.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Mad Dog Mauling
We all are familiar with the phrase, "Meaner than a junkyard dog", meaning a guard dog that is beyond vicious, that would just as well rip your arm off as look at you. Well, I’ve recently had an encounter with a vicious, rabid, guard dog that has left me shaken, angry and somewhat nauseous. I’ll try to recount the adventure as best I can and try not to swear.
It all began innocently, as most of these things do. I wanted to protect Katie and Jake from the evils that lurk on the Internet waiting to pounce on unsuspecting youngsters and senile oldsters. At the recommendation of a trusted friend and IT professional, I downloaded a piece of free software entitled K9 Web Protection, offered by BlueCoat. At first, our relationship was benign and friendly, with the dog - they have a dog as a mascot that you can have bark if someone tries to access a web page that is inappropriate - doing his job and keeping us all safe from the nasties that lurk on the web. But, then it happened.....
One evening, the kids informed me that the computer downstairs was ‘broke’ ,as they put it. Regardless of the nature of the problem with the computer, they always say the same things. Either ‘it is broke’, or ‘the computer doesn’t work.’ So, I took a look at the computer and found that the dog had turned on us and had taken the computer hostage and wouldn’t let go. Not only had it turned on us, but it had become rabid as well, crazy in its aggression. I tried to uninstall it, but it required the use of the administrative password. No problem. I entered the same password that I had been using for over a year and the dog said it was invalid. INVALID?????!!!! How could that be? There was no doubt that the dog was out of control and needed to be stopped at any cost!
As you would assume, I turned to the original handlers of this malicious mutt, the K9 Web protection folks. Once on their site, (I had to use my computer at work) I soon discovered that they had no support, only some automated FAQ doggey doo that was of no help at all. I searched their forum for clues to eliminating this nasty threat from my computer and found others who had experienced the same misfortune. The knowledge that they had found no relief made my heart sink. I found a phone number for K9 that was in Draper, Utah. I called it and, of course, had to leave a message as there wasn’t anyone around to answer the phone. They never called me back, even after three messages. I was getting desperate.
Soon, I figured that if the K9 people were unresponsive, maybe I could go to the parent company, BlueCoat. At least there I found a human to talk to. The person I talked to took my information - phone number, email address, etc, then said he would forward it to the K9 people. NOOOOOOO! I begged him not to give me to those lunatics who had sicked this mad dog on me in the first place and then had refused to even talk to me after the mangy mutt turned on me. He explained that the people I had called were in Utah and that the people he was going to give my information to were in California. I was somewhat relieved at that news. I shouldn’t have been!
They emailed me instructions to the corralling of this dangerous canine. I had explained to them that I couldn’t get on the internet, a common problem when the dog turns on its master and takes over the computer. They sent me instructions to download the software again, overlay it on the original, re-enter a new password and then I could do whatever I wanted to from that point. Fine! But ......HOW DO I GET ON THE INTERNET TO DOWNLOAD THE SOFTWARE IF YOUR SOFTWARE WON’T LET ME GET ON THE INTERNET??????
This salient point seemed to stump the support group. I can see them all huddling around their one desk in someone’s small garage trying to answer that sublime question. Well, maybe they are in a basement rather than a garage, who knows?
So, let this be a warning to all that read this, don’t download the software known as K9 Web Protection! It may be fine for awhile, but it will turn on you and hold you in its slobbery jaws and never let go, and you will have no one to turn to for help. Whatever you do, don’t download this software.
So, now what do I do? I’ve called a friend - a different one than recommended this piece of dog doo, who is a professional IT man to see if he can eliminate this menace. Perhaps in another post, I’ll be able to report that I’m free of the malicious malware that K9 had unleashed on the world. Perhaps.
It all began innocently, as most of these things do. I wanted to protect Katie and Jake from the evils that lurk on the Internet waiting to pounce on unsuspecting youngsters and senile oldsters. At the recommendation of a trusted friend and IT professional, I downloaded a piece of free software entitled K9 Web Protection, offered by BlueCoat. At first, our relationship was benign and friendly, with the dog - they have a dog as a mascot that you can have bark if someone tries to access a web page that is inappropriate - doing his job and keeping us all safe from the nasties that lurk on the web. But, then it happened.....
One evening, the kids informed me that the computer downstairs was ‘broke’ ,as they put it. Regardless of the nature of the problem with the computer, they always say the same things. Either ‘it is broke’, or ‘the computer doesn’t work.’ So, I took a look at the computer and found that the dog had turned on us and had taken the computer hostage and wouldn’t let go. Not only had it turned on us, but it had become rabid as well, crazy in its aggression. I tried to uninstall it, but it required the use of the administrative password. No problem. I entered the same password that I had been using for over a year and the dog said it was invalid. INVALID?????!!!! How could that be? There was no doubt that the dog was out of control and needed to be stopped at any cost!
As you would assume, I turned to the original handlers of this malicious mutt, the K9 Web protection folks. Once on their site, (I had to use my computer at work) I soon discovered that they had no support, only some automated FAQ doggey doo that was of no help at all. I searched their forum for clues to eliminating this nasty threat from my computer and found others who had experienced the same misfortune. The knowledge that they had found no relief made my heart sink. I found a phone number for K9 that was in Draper, Utah. I called it and, of course, had to leave a message as there wasn’t anyone around to answer the phone. They never called me back, even after three messages. I was getting desperate.
Soon, I figured that if the K9 people were unresponsive, maybe I could go to the parent company, BlueCoat. At least there I found a human to talk to. The person I talked to took my information - phone number, email address, etc, then said he would forward it to the K9 people. NOOOOOOO! I begged him not to give me to those lunatics who had sicked this mad dog on me in the first place and then had refused to even talk to me after the mangy mutt turned on me. He explained that the people I had called were in Utah and that the people he was going to give my information to were in California. I was somewhat relieved at that news. I shouldn’t have been!
They emailed me instructions to the corralling of this dangerous canine. I had explained to them that I couldn’t get on the internet, a common problem when the dog turns on its master and takes over the computer. They sent me instructions to download the software again, overlay it on the original, re-enter a new password and then I could do whatever I wanted to from that point. Fine! But ......HOW DO I GET ON THE INTERNET TO DOWNLOAD THE SOFTWARE IF YOUR SOFTWARE WON’T LET ME GET ON THE INTERNET??????
This salient point seemed to stump the support group. I can see them all huddling around their one desk in someone’s small garage trying to answer that sublime question. Well, maybe they are in a basement rather than a garage, who knows?
So, let this be a warning to all that read this, don’t download the software known as K9 Web Protection! It may be fine for awhile, but it will turn on you and hold you in its slobbery jaws and never let go, and you will have no one to turn to for help. Whatever you do, don’t download this software.
So, now what do I do? I’ve called a friend - a different one than recommended this piece of dog doo, who is a professional IT man to see if he can eliminate this menace. Perhaps in another post, I’ll be able to report that I’m free of the malicious malware that K9 had unleashed on the world. Perhaps.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Joseph - the sequel
Last two nights! That’s right, everyone, there are only two more nights to catch the renowned performance of ‘Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat’ at the Civic Auditorium. The amazing cast have played their hearts out, singing and dancing to enthusiastic crowds who begged for more. Many visitors have compared this production to those seen in London and New York and have nothing but rave reviews for the show. If you haven’t ever seen the play, you owe it to yourself and your family to spend the meager eight dollars for a ticket and come see the theatrical event of the year. The cast has received standing ovations at every performance, so, I can guarantee you will be entertained far beyond the money you spend. Doors open at 6:30pm and curtain is at 7:30. See you there!
How's that for a nice plug? For those of you out of towners, private jets are standing by to accomodate your trip. Well, maybe not really private jets. Would you believe a Cessna 150 with bald tires and only one passenger seat? I think you best bet will be commercial airlines, actually.
Seriously, I would recommend this show to anyone who enjoys music. It is appropriate for all ages and music tastes. It is a great show with an excellent cast and chorus that will amaze you at their level of talent. And I would say that even if I wasn't in it. I'm pretty sure I would say that if I wasn't in it. Well, maybe being in it has shaded my objectivity a bit, but come and judge for youself. Just do it, you know you want to.
How's that for a nice plug? For those of you out of towners, private jets are standing by to accomodate your trip. Well, maybe not really private jets. Would you believe a Cessna 150 with bald tires and only one passenger seat? I think you best bet will be commercial airlines, actually.
Seriously, I would recommend this show to anyone who enjoys music. It is appropriate for all ages and music tastes. It is a great show with an excellent cast and chorus that will amaze you at their level of talent. And I would say that even if I wasn't in it. I'm pretty sure I would say that if I wasn't in it. Well, maybe being in it has shaded my objectivity a bit, but come and judge for youself. Just do it, you know you want to.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Allergies and other show biz stuff
I’m allergic to Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat! I know that seems ludicrous but it is absolutely true. The last time I played in ‘Joseph’, I contracted pneumonia just a few weeks following the close of the show. This year, I didn’t even wait to finish the show - I ended up getting pneumonia during the rehearsals. Now, what are the odds of getting pneumonia four years apart? And only when I’m involved with the play? I’ve performed in other plays and haven’t even had as much as a sniffle, and here I am near death with pneumonia while in the throws of rehearsals for ‘Joseph’. I would have to say the odds are overwhelming against this just being bad luck. My only conclusion is some kind of a weird, bizarre allergy. Perhaps it isn’t just the show, maybe it is an allergy to Andrew Lloyd Weber musicals. The only one I’ve performed in is Joseph and....well, you know the rest. Maybe it is too many flats in the score, or too many people on stage, or.......I don’t know what! But, it has something to do with this #$^%#& show.
I do know I’ll never do this play again!!! Actually, even before I was struck down with pneumonia, I knew this would be my last show. I’ve lost the fire. They are no longer fun, and when the fun is gone, there is no incentive to put up with all the hard work that goes with a play like ‘Joseph’. I’m done. This time, I was almost done in.
The regimen for treating pneumonia.....by the way, who came up with the spelling of that lousy illness? Couldn’t we spell it phonetically? And while we are at it, I’m guessing that the same bone head that came up with the spelling for pneumonia decided to spell phonetic as well. Shouldn’t phonetic be spelled phonetically....fonetically? Good grief!!!!!
But back to the treatment of pneumonia. I received a series of three shots, one every day, for three days. These are the first shots I’ve ever received that the nurse said, "This is going to hurt." And they did! The poke didn’t hurt, but after they had injected the molten lead, the pain, stinging, and aching started. And I got THREE of those bad boys. But, the good news is that I’m on the mend. I haven’t gone back to rehearsals yet...I’m a little gun shy....but I’ll try it on Wednesday. Too many coughs, though, and ‘The show must go on’ is going in a bucket out the back of the stage door!
I’ll keep you posted.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Joseph Bio Vote
Dear Readers,
Sorry about the long absence, but what little I had to say just didn't seem worth waisting your time. I know that I didn't seem to have that regard for your time with all my other posts, but I have repented, sort of,.......well, not really, but it sounds good, eh? Actually, I've been very busy and just haven't had the time to post anything, plus, my creative juices have dried up and left me sitting here totally uncreative and without thought. But, fear not, for I have found new juice! And, I need your advice, or at least your input.
As some of you may know, Katie, Jake and I are doing "Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" this summer, which is one of the reasons for my dried up juices due to the three nights a week rehearsal schedule. Because I'm one of the brothers in the cast, I have to write a Bio for the program. These bio's are written by the performer as if someone else wrote them, extolling all their past successes and musical accomplishments, as well as claiming extraordinary talents. In the past, when I've had to write one, I've taken a different tack and have attempted to write something funny. This year is not different. However, I've written two and can't decide which one is the one I want in the program. And that is where you come in. I'd like to have you let me know which one you like. I have to turn it in next week, so let me know as soon as you can. Thanks for the help. You'll notice that the second paragraph is the same in both. That is because of the dried up juices thing and that is all I could think of. The two follow:
Bio 1
Dee’s first exposure to music came just after his sixth birthday when he was abducted by a roaming band of Romanian gypsies who had illegally crossed the German border and were traveling throughout the country shaving women’s armpits. After learning the shaving business, Dee was then apprenticed to the band’s one-armed musette player where he learned to play that unusual instrument as well as the gilfin rotary finger cymbals. Currently, Dee limits his music to playing the piano and singing in the shower. But, getting the piano in and out of the shower has become increasingly more difficult, so he has limited his shower singing to a Karaoke with a long cord. This years production will mark Dee’s fifth Sounds Choir Production.
Dee is easily recognizable on stage as he is the only one carrying a bucket. The bucket is the only way he can come close to carrying a tune and he has been required to use the bucket for the four productions he has performed in. Having no talent has not deterred this, want to be actor, even though all those who know him have begged him to stop punishing audiences and to pursue some of his other passions like extreme worm farming, or full contact knitting, or jumping off tall buildings holding a towel over his head yelling "I can fly, I can fly". What Dee lacks in talent for singing, he more than makes up for in obnoxious behavior and an absolute uncanny ability to make easy dance steps unrecognizable. After several death threats from music lovers, Dee has decided this years production will be his last. Dee shares the stage with his daughter, Katie and son, Jake.
Bio 2
Dee’s background in music is varied and unspectacular. He sang the title role in Joe Green’s classic operetta, "La Bonnhedda" with the wonderful featured song "If I’d Shot You When I Wanted To, I’d Be Out By Now". After that, less than thrilling performance, Dee went on to play Dave in "The Last Train To Clarksville", the short running musical based on the music of the Monkees. It was a way off-Broadway production which opened in Minot, North Dakota, and ended there. Following that debacle, Dee left music and became the Montana Full Contact Knitting champion, scoring an amazing 300 on his final round. With little left to accomplish in his professional singing career, he moved to Idaho and started a small business selling competitive knitting supplies.
Dee is easily recognizable on stage as he is the only one carrying a bucket. The bucket is the only way he can come close to carrying a tune and he has been required to use the bucket for the four Sound Choir productions he has performed in. Having no talent has not deterred this, want to be actor, even though all those who know him have begged him to stop punishing audiences and to pursue some of his other passions like extreme worm farming, or jumping off tall buildings holding a towel over his head yelling "I can fly, I can fly". What Dee lacks in talent for singing, he more than makes up for in obnoxious behavior and an absolute uncanny ability to make easy dance steps unrecognizable. After several death threats from music lovers, Dee has decided this years production will be his last. Dee shares the stage with his daughter, Katie and son, Jake.
Well, there they are. Let me know which one you like. And for those who don't like either, .......well.......that's ok too, I guess. But don't say anything, that way I'll think you just couldn't decide.
Sorry about the long absence, but what little I had to say just didn't seem worth waisting your time. I know that I didn't seem to have that regard for your time with all my other posts, but I have repented, sort of,.......well, not really, but it sounds good, eh? Actually, I've been very busy and just haven't had the time to post anything, plus, my creative juices have dried up and left me sitting here totally uncreative and without thought. But, fear not, for I have found new juice! And, I need your advice, or at least your input.
As some of you may know, Katie, Jake and I are doing "Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" this summer, which is one of the reasons for my dried up juices due to the three nights a week rehearsal schedule. Because I'm one of the brothers in the cast, I have to write a Bio for the program. These bio's are written by the performer as if someone else wrote them, extolling all their past successes and musical accomplishments, as well as claiming extraordinary talents. In the past, when I've had to write one, I've taken a different tack and have attempted to write something funny. This year is not different. However, I've written two and can't decide which one is the one I want in the program. And that is where you come in. I'd like to have you let me know which one you like. I have to turn it in next week, so let me know as soon as you can. Thanks for the help. You'll notice that the second paragraph is the same in both. That is because of the dried up juices thing and that is all I could think of. The two follow:
Bio 1
Dee’s first exposure to music came just after his sixth birthday when he was abducted by a roaming band of Romanian gypsies who had illegally crossed the German border and were traveling throughout the country shaving women’s armpits. After learning the shaving business, Dee was then apprenticed to the band’s one-armed musette player where he learned to play that unusual instrument as well as the gilfin rotary finger cymbals. Currently, Dee limits his music to playing the piano and singing in the shower. But, getting the piano in and out of the shower has become increasingly more difficult, so he has limited his shower singing to a Karaoke with a long cord. This years production will mark Dee’s fifth Sounds Choir Production.
Dee is easily recognizable on stage as he is the only one carrying a bucket. The bucket is the only way he can come close to carrying a tune and he has been required to use the bucket for the four productions he has performed in. Having no talent has not deterred this, want to be actor, even though all those who know him have begged him to stop punishing audiences and to pursue some of his other passions like extreme worm farming, or full contact knitting, or jumping off tall buildings holding a towel over his head yelling "I can fly, I can fly". What Dee lacks in talent for singing, he more than makes up for in obnoxious behavior and an absolute uncanny ability to make easy dance steps unrecognizable. After several death threats from music lovers, Dee has decided this years production will be his last. Dee shares the stage with his daughter, Katie and son, Jake.
Bio 2
Dee’s background in music is varied and unspectacular. He sang the title role in Joe Green’s classic operetta, "La Bonnhedda" with the wonderful featured song "If I’d Shot You When I Wanted To, I’d Be Out By Now". After that, less than thrilling performance, Dee went on to play Dave in "The Last Train To Clarksville", the short running musical based on the music of the Monkees. It was a way off-Broadway production which opened in Minot, North Dakota, and ended there. Following that debacle, Dee left music and became the Montana Full Contact Knitting champion, scoring an amazing 300 on his final round. With little left to accomplish in his professional singing career, he moved to Idaho and started a small business selling competitive knitting supplies.
Dee is easily recognizable on stage as he is the only one carrying a bucket. The bucket is the only way he can come close to carrying a tune and he has been required to use the bucket for the four Sound Choir productions he has performed in. Having no talent has not deterred this, want to be actor, even though all those who know him have begged him to stop punishing audiences and to pursue some of his other passions like extreme worm farming, or jumping off tall buildings holding a towel over his head yelling "I can fly, I can fly". What Dee lacks in talent for singing, he more than makes up for in obnoxious behavior and an absolute uncanny ability to make easy dance steps unrecognizable. After several death threats from music lovers, Dee has decided this years production will be his last. Dee shares the stage with his daughter, Katie and son, Jake.
Well, there they are. Let me know which one you like. And for those who don't like either, .......well.......that's ok too, I guess. But don't say anything, that way I'll think you just couldn't decide.
Monday, March 23, 2009
The Dream
I died. Yes, dead, kaput, mort, no longer among us, pushing up daisies, pennies on the eyelids - dead. What the heck had happened? One minute I was here, the next I’m standing in front of the Pearly Gates waiting for them to open. Dead? How can this be. I was in relatively good shape. Sure, I didn’t exercise on any regular basis, unless you count rushing around the house looking for the tv remote, or bending over to see what was in the refrigerator. And my diet did include fruits - that is if strawberry ice cream counts as a serving of fruit - and pizza with mushrooms and olives should be counted as vegetables. I was going to do something about my cholesterol just as soon as it hit four hundred. I figured I had a few weeks to go before that milestone. But, here I was, dead.
I stood at the Gates wondering what I was supposed to do next. I didn’t see any bell to ring or any other way to alert them, whoever they were, that I had arrived. Surely, they would have some high tech advanced warning system to alert them to the fact a new arrival was waiting to get in.
I examined the gates and walls more thoroughly. The gates, tall elaborate patterns of gold bars, interlaced into intricate shapes, were tightly closed. The walls, approximately twelve feet high, appeared to be made of solid gold. Everything was polished to a high sheen, reflecting the light to the extent that it was almost painful to look at them. I wedged my face between the bars of the gate trying to see if anyone was close that I could ask for help. There wasn’t anyone to be seen. I extracted my face, sat next to the wall to the right of the gates, and waited.
"Hey, buddy, you can’t sleep there."
"What?" I answered, jumping up. "Who said that?"
"You can’t sleep there," a man standing at the gate said.
"I wasn’t sleeping. I was just waiting for someone to come and let me in," I stated, trying to explain myself and why I was there. Where had this guy come from? "Are you St. Peter?" I asked, excited to be meeting one of the original Apostles.
"No, he is on vacation. My name is Al," he explained.
Vacation? I wondered where one living in Heaven would go for a vacation. I decided not to ask.
"Al? I was expecting St. Peter."
"I know, I get that a lot," he said, looking through some sheets on a clip board. "What can I do for you?"
The question set me back. "I guess you could let me in," I suggested.
He glanced through the sheets again. "Nope, I don’t see you here," he eventually said. "Sorry."
"What! How can that be?"
"You’re not on the list. Sorry." He turned to leave.
"Wait," I yelled. "There has to be a mistake."
He turned and looked at me for a moment. He leafed through the papers on his clip board again. "Nope, no mistake," he declared.
"No, now wait a minute......Al....do you mean....I’m supposed to be.....down there....?" I said, pointing down. That can’t be.....can it? I mean, I’ve tried to be good.....most of my life, mostly, kinda....you know, there were those few times when......well, eh......alright, maybe more than a few times, but I wouldn’t think that would be enough to keep me from getting in.....would it?" I was stammering, trying to think of anything to persuade Al to reconsider. I was becoming frantic.
"Apparently," was all he said.
"No, wait, listen. I’m sure there is something we can work out. Surely, there must be something."
"There is nothing. And don’t call me Shirley." He turned to leave again.
"No, wait! I want to see your supervisor." I demanded.
Al turned to face me. "My supervisor?"
"Yes, your supervisor. I want to talk to him." I tried to sound as if I carried some weight. I wanted to let him know he couldn’t push me around.
Al walked back to me. He put his hand on my shoulder as if he were a grandfather giving his grandson some sage advise.
"He rarely makes appearances outside these walls and since you aren’t coming in, you can’t see Him," Al explained. So much for having any pull here.
"Your supervisor is....Him?" I asked, incredulously.
"Yes, now go on about your business."
"Wait, I have no idea what my business is now. And I don’t know how to get to.....well, you know,....heck,"I said, not wanting to say the real word while standing so close to heaven. Besides, I didn’t want to hurt any chances of some sort of clemency.
"Sorry, I can’t help you," Al said. "That’s not my department. I’m in charge of the gate and letting people in."
"So, who do I talk to about getting.....there?"
"I think that is....oh let’s see.......is it Bob?" Al answered looking at me as if I was going to affirm his answer.
We both stood staring at each other while Al rummaged through his brain. At some length, the various brain cells came to a consensus.
"Yes, Bob is in charge of that department," Al finally declared.
"Then can I speak to Bob?"
"He’s inside and......"
"I can’t come in," I finished for him, shaking my head in agreement. "I know. So, how do I see Bob?"
Al seemed stumped by that question. I was beginning to think that Al must have worked for the government at some point in his life and his bureaucratic thought process had hung over to the hereafter.
"Did you work for the government on earth, Al?"
"No," Al answered, " I drove a cab in the Bronx."
"Well, Al, maybe you can summon Bob to come down to the gate here and give me some advice. What do you think?" I suggested.
"Wait here," Al instructed.
I turned to return to my spot next to the gate thinking I’d be waiting awhile, when Al spoke.
"This is Bob," he said.
It hadn’t been but a second and here they both stood. Apparently, things moved fast in heaven.
Bob, thinner and taller than Al, stood at Al’s left side. He too had a clip board. He spoke. "What can I do for you?"
"Al tells me I can’t come in, so, I need to know how to get to....the other place."
Bob shuffled through the papers on his clip board. "I don’t see you here," he said.
"What!" I exclaimed. "If I’m not supposed to be in Heaven and I’m not on your list for the other place....where in the he.....heck am I supposed to be?" I yelled, almost forgetting to be on my best behavior.
"That’s just it," Bob replied, "Your not supposed to be at either place. If you’re not on either list, then you aren’t supposed to be dead yet." He looked at me as if that settled the issue.
"But, here I stand," I said reminding him of the problem we were trying to solve.
He shuffled through his papers once again, studying one in particular. "Ah, here it is," he said reading it to himself.
"What?" I asked.
He read to himself a bit more. "It says here that you weren’t supposed to die until your cholesterol hit four hundred. You have a few weeks left." he said, smiling. "Just a minor snafu. Here, I’ll give you a pass back and we’ll see you in a few weeks.....unless you make some changes. There, all’s well that ends well, eh?." Bob was quite pleased with himself for finding the answer. It was a bit disconcerting the cavalier attitude Bob and Al had toward my demise, or my pending demise. Either way, they didn’t seem to broken up or concerned that I was dead or about to be. I was about to offer my observations on that subject when Bob wrote something on a piece of paper on his clip board and stepped toward me.
He handed me a piece of paper and as soon as I touched it, I was back in bed, awake, staring at the ceiling. I sat up and looked around. It was a dream, but it seemed so real. But, how could it have been? Was it real? Was it a dream or a near death experience?
What ever it was, it got me to thinking. Maybe I’d better start exercising and watching what I eat, besides just watching it all the way to my mouth. I think I’ll start next week.
I stood at the Gates wondering what I was supposed to do next. I didn’t see any bell to ring or any other way to alert them, whoever they were, that I had arrived. Surely, they would have some high tech advanced warning system to alert them to the fact a new arrival was waiting to get in.
I examined the gates and walls more thoroughly. The gates, tall elaborate patterns of gold bars, interlaced into intricate shapes, were tightly closed. The walls, approximately twelve feet high, appeared to be made of solid gold. Everything was polished to a high sheen, reflecting the light to the extent that it was almost painful to look at them. I wedged my face between the bars of the gate trying to see if anyone was close that I could ask for help. There wasn’t anyone to be seen. I extracted my face, sat next to the wall to the right of the gates, and waited.
"Hey, buddy, you can’t sleep there."
"What?" I answered, jumping up. "Who said that?"
"You can’t sleep there," a man standing at the gate said.
"I wasn’t sleeping. I was just waiting for someone to come and let me in," I stated, trying to explain myself and why I was there. Where had this guy come from? "Are you St. Peter?" I asked, excited to be meeting one of the original Apostles.
"No, he is on vacation. My name is Al," he explained.
Vacation? I wondered where one living in Heaven would go for a vacation. I decided not to ask.
"Al? I was expecting St. Peter."
"I know, I get that a lot," he said, looking through some sheets on a clip board. "What can I do for you?"
The question set me back. "I guess you could let me in," I suggested.
He glanced through the sheets again. "Nope, I don’t see you here," he eventually said. "Sorry."
"What! How can that be?"
"You’re not on the list. Sorry." He turned to leave.
"Wait," I yelled. "There has to be a mistake."
He turned and looked at me for a moment. He leafed through the papers on his clip board again. "Nope, no mistake," he declared.
"No, now wait a minute......Al....do you mean....I’m supposed to be.....down there....?" I said, pointing down. That can’t be.....can it? I mean, I’ve tried to be good.....most of my life, mostly, kinda....you know, there were those few times when......well, eh......alright, maybe more than a few times, but I wouldn’t think that would be enough to keep me from getting in.....would it?" I was stammering, trying to think of anything to persuade Al to reconsider. I was becoming frantic.
"Apparently," was all he said.
"No, wait, listen. I’m sure there is something we can work out. Surely, there must be something."
"There is nothing. And don’t call me Shirley." He turned to leave again.
"No, wait! I want to see your supervisor." I demanded.
Al turned to face me. "My supervisor?"
"Yes, your supervisor. I want to talk to him." I tried to sound as if I carried some weight. I wanted to let him know he couldn’t push me around.
Al walked back to me. He put his hand on my shoulder as if he were a grandfather giving his grandson some sage advise.
"He rarely makes appearances outside these walls and since you aren’t coming in, you can’t see Him," Al explained. So much for having any pull here.
"Your supervisor is....Him?" I asked, incredulously.
"Yes, now go on about your business."
"Wait, I have no idea what my business is now. And I don’t know how to get to.....well, you know,....heck,"I said, not wanting to say the real word while standing so close to heaven. Besides, I didn’t want to hurt any chances of some sort of clemency.
"Sorry, I can’t help you," Al said. "That’s not my department. I’m in charge of the gate and letting people in."
"So, who do I talk to about getting.....there?"
"I think that is....oh let’s see.......is it Bob?" Al answered looking at me as if I was going to affirm his answer.
We both stood staring at each other while Al rummaged through his brain. At some length, the various brain cells came to a consensus.
"Yes, Bob is in charge of that department," Al finally declared.
"Then can I speak to Bob?"
"He’s inside and......"
"I can’t come in," I finished for him, shaking my head in agreement. "I know. So, how do I see Bob?"
Al seemed stumped by that question. I was beginning to think that Al must have worked for the government at some point in his life and his bureaucratic thought process had hung over to the hereafter.
"Did you work for the government on earth, Al?"
"No," Al answered, " I drove a cab in the Bronx."
"Well, Al, maybe you can summon Bob to come down to the gate here and give me some advice. What do you think?" I suggested.
"Wait here," Al instructed.
I turned to return to my spot next to the gate thinking I’d be waiting awhile, when Al spoke.
"This is Bob," he said.
It hadn’t been but a second and here they both stood. Apparently, things moved fast in heaven.
Bob, thinner and taller than Al, stood at Al’s left side. He too had a clip board. He spoke. "What can I do for you?"
"Al tells me I can’t come in, so, I need to know how to get to....the other place."
Bob shuffled through the papers on his clip board. "I don’t see you here," he said.
"What!" I exclaimed. "If I’m not supposed to be in Heaven and I’m not on your list for the other place....where in the he.....heck am I supposed to be?" I yelled, almost forgetting to be on my best behavior.
"That’s just it," Bob replied, "Your not supposed to be at either place. If you’re not on either list, then you aren’t supposed to be dead yet." He looked at me as if that settled the issue.
"But, here I stand," I said reminding him of the problem we were trying to solve.
He shuffled through his papers once again, studying one in particular. "Ah, here it is," he said reading it to himself.
"What?" I asked.
He read to himself a bit more. "It says here that you weren’t supposed to die until your cholesterol hit four hundred. You have a few weeks left." he said, smiling. "Just a minor snafu. Here, I’ll give you a pass back and we’ll see you in a few weeks.....unless you make some changes. There, all’s well that ends well, eh?." Bob was quite pleased with himself for finding the answer. It was a bit disconcerting the cavalier attitude Bob and Al had toward my demise, or my pending demise. Either way, they didn’t seem to broken up or concerned that I was dead or about to be. I was about to offer my observations on that subject when Bob wrote something on a piece of paper on his clip board and stepped toward me.
He handed me a piece of paper and as soon as I touched it, I was back in bed, awake, staring at the ceiling. I sat up and looked around. It was a dream, but it seemed so real. But, how could it have been? Was it real? Was it a dream or a near death experience?
What ever it was, it got me to thinking. Maybe I’d better start exercising and watching what I eat, besides just watching it all the way to my mouth. I think I’ll start next week.
Friday, March 20, 2009
An Evening of Entertainment
Last night, at the Hillcrest High School Performing Arts Center, we watched some extraordinarily talented young men and women. Hillcrest held a talent show as a benefit for the Halford family who’s son was injured in a snowmobile accident this winter. As I sat there, enthralled by the amazing talent of these young people, I couldn’t help thinking of the criticism thrown at teens today about their addiction to sitting around watching tv, playing video games, etc. One can only imagine the amount of time and effort that went into these performances. These young people are indeed talented, however, talent without work is often wasted and left untouched. These young men and women had obviously spent hundreds of hours honing their talents, practicing until the performance was flawless.
On top of the dedication and discipline, we must add courage - the courage to stand in front of their peers, their friends and their families and put it all on the line. Live entertainment has a magic that comes from the performer standing on the edge of a precipice of failure with disaster waiting to grab them by the neck and pull them down. Forgotten lyrics, missed notes, botched arrangements all are specters that hover about waiting to take down the unsuspecting performer. And yet, they all rose above the fear. Undaunted, they went on and with an air of professionalism, provided the audience with an evening of unparalleled entertainment.
Katie and Jake, my daughter and son, were members of this ensemble of talented youngsters. Katie played guitar and Jake played the bongos. They sang "I’ll Follow You Into The Dark" and, since I am an unbiased and impartial judge, I’ll admit they were the best of the show. At least, they got the longest ovation. In addition to Katie and Jake, there were several pianists, a young woman who played the harp and sang, several other guitarist who all exhibited excellent talent, three violinists, a singing group with piano and violin accompaniment, a ballroom dance duo, there was even a re enactment of the Mario Bros. That is just a partial list of the wonderful acts that we were privileged to see.
In conclusion, let me say live entertainment is alive and well in Idaho Falls and these young people represent our future, not only in the world of entertainment, but, I would venture a guess and say that they represent our future in all areas. I am proud of all of them for their courage, commitment to excellence, and discipline in setting goals and accomplishing them. They are young men and women we can all be proud of.
On top of the dedication and discipline, we must add courage - the courage to stand in front of their peers, their friends and their families and put it all on the line. Live entertainment has a magic that comes from the performer standing on the edge of a precipice of failure with disaster waiting to grab them by the neck and pull them down. Forgotten lyrics, missed notes, botched arrangements all are specters that hover about waiting to take down the unsuspecting performer. And yet, they all rose above the fear. Undaunted, they went on and with an air of professionalism, provided the audience with an evening of unparalleled entertainment.
Katie and Jake, my daughter and son, were members of this ensemble of talented youngsters. Katie played guitar and Jake played the bongos. They sang "I’ll Follow You Into The Dark" and, since I am an unbiased and impartial judge, I’ll admit they were the best of the show. At least, they got the longest ovation. In addition to Katie and Jake, there were several pianists, a young woman who played the harp and sang, several other guitarist who all exhibited excellent talent, three violinists, a singing group with piano and violin accompaniment, a ballroom dance duo, there was even a re enactment of the Mario Bros. That is just a partial list of the wonderful acts that we were privileged to see.
In conclusion, let me say live entertainment is alive and well in Idaho Falls and these young people represent our future, not only in the world of entertainment, but, I would venture a guess and say that they represent our future in all areas. I am proud of all of them for their courage, commitment to excellence, and discipline in setting goals and accomplishing them. They are young men and women we can all be proud of.
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