In heaven, cartoon characters get their fifth fingers back. Skateboarding is not a crime.
In old folks homes, Babies act as interpreters between moaning old guys and certified nursing assistants
In heaven, at the ballpark, during dime a dog night, the hot dogs are actually veggie dogs, and the people who kneed to know this, heart patients,vegetarians, mysteriously but intuitively receive this information and the rest enjoy the game in ignorant bliss.
In heaven, everyone has their own theme song, which works as a hello goodbye how do you do kind of thing. Might be a lullaby, a chart topper from younger days, could be maybe an old ring tone, but you can pass by anybody, and you will know their tune, and they will know yours. And here's the kicker. In heaven, everyone sounds good scatting.
There are some very complex rules about how you can watch your life over, who you can invite over to watch with you, parts you are allowed to skip, parts you aren't allowed to skip, and clips from other people's lives to be shown as footnotes, in a way, to your own life. I've read the pamphlet many times, and I'm still confused.
But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. In heaven, there's a referral service that matches people with an appropriate therapist. All the greats are there, the raunchy and perceptive Freud, the spooky and mellow Jung. And some people might get offended that the service doesn't deem your problems worthy of, say, Carl Rogers. But they are usually able to get you to give that obscure social worker from Mishawaka a chance. Mishawaka? It's outside of South Bend. Where Notre Dame plays?
Anyways, I have strong hopes, that with the referral service, you and I can look at some things that have always eluded us. After all this time, there's some things that I don't understand. I've kind of accepted that I don't understand them, but I'd really like to. That's my hope, my heavenly hope.