Tag: the Bard

Can You Cut the Line at the Pearly Gates?

Many religions include after death scenarios in their tenets. I’d think if one got to the pearly gates and there were lines with signs, most people today would definitely head for the enter heaven line.

I mean let’s just say there were big screen televisions at the gates portraying scenes of earth. While waiting in line you were watching what’s going on below as you pondered where you might want to spend the next portion of your soul’s existence.

At first you may be adamant you want to return to earth.

It may sound appealing, especially if you’ve been a good person and you’re moving up the ladder.

Sort of like spending your life caring for the sick and then you learn because of your good deeds on earth you have the option of returning looking like Heidi Klum with a metabolism faster than Mario Andretti.

Some believe it’s a choice to come back or move on to whatever is available for souls.

Of course this got me to thinking about whether or not most people today would return, or stay the heck away from all this craziness.

I can’t say for certain what happens or where we go after we have shuffled off this mortal coil as the Bard so eloquently wrote, but I’d have to believe the state of earth would impact anyone’s decision.  

But is this actually the reason for current world problems?

Can you blame spirits for not wanting to return and is that a factor in the insanity we are dealing with?

If good people are all in the line that says heaven to your right and Hamas is in the line that says, return to earth to keep trying to be a human, maybe that’s an issue here.

After all terrorists aren’t known for allowing positive information into their brains. If that’s the case evil terrorists may have to keep being reborn to learn their lessons and stop repeating horrific behavior.

So if all the good people are in the line that says Heavenly condos this way, beachfront or city views form a line here, and all the evil souls are shoved over to the no-way- you’ve-got-a-long-way-to-go line, what does that say about the element that’s returning to earth? One might even assume it’s a valid explanation for why every way we turn today we see some pretty scary stuff.

I mean when you have to lock up toothpaste that’s pretty sad.

Excuse me, could someone unlock the Colgate please? And while they’re at it could they also grab me a Revlon eyeliner?

I guess unless you have the entire day to wait around the drug store, securing a Snickers bar would be out of the question.

So if I’m in line and have my choice of a condo overlooking the Adriatic sea, being able to eat anything I want and not gain weight and have a chocolate fountain running 24 hours a day. Or returning to a crime ridden insane asylum with palm trees like California, mouthwash locked up, smash and grabs and politicians who have lower IQs than the temperature in Buffalo, New York in the middle of January, how long do you think I’d have to ponder that one?

And that could be the problem in a nutshell, excuse the pun. If good people are opting for heaven and all the crazies and evildoers have to come back and keep repeating life until they get it right, how can we expect any balance on earth?

Oh sure there are still beautiful places here, but if we do come back we don’t know we did anyway so no wonder the line for chilling in heaven is getting larger every day.

Especially if you know the people you love will only be a few doors away and you can sleep at night without an alarm, isn’t the choice rather obvious?

I’m not sure that anyone is up at the gates doing a head count, but I’m willing to bet if they did, they would see the numbers are rising for those who opt for heaven. Therefore, the amount of undesirables who are dropping back to earth are higher than the number of pounds Hollywood is shedding on Ozempic.

Aging highlights the ironies of life. As we get older we see things far more clearly, especially after cataract surgery.

That is a sad state of affairs because at a time when one feels entitled to peace and harmony after a lifetime of challenges and struggles, we are faced with a heightened awareness of the grasp evil has taken on the world.

As a Baby Boomer, and how sad when that term is retired, most of us now embrace tranquility and seek the goodness in human nature. Yet most of my friends admit they can no longer even watch the news.

In a world where experience should have exposed lines never to be crossed, people are stepping further and further over them each day. Where optimism is becoming as scarce as a politician who can’t even spell morality yet alone exhibit any. Where the desire for peace has become as elusive as salespeople in retail stores why choose this chaos over blissful peace?

It’s no wonder those lines in heaven are filling up with hoards of souls saying, “No thanks I did my time on planet earth and please make sure my condo has no phone or Internet. Ignorance is a great reward after a lifetime of awareness.”   

God is in the Oil of Olay

God is in the Oil of Olay

Shock and awe is a phrase often used to describe a moment when we can’t quite register what we are seeing. It’s usually reserved for those occasions that might render one speechless, like seeing an explosion in a building a few feet away or a smash and grab when you’re trying on clothes at Nordstrom.

So I’m not quite certain that what I’m about to describe would be considered shock and awe by some, but to me it was one of those moments and I have to say it was more shock than awe.

I recently attended an event where I ran into many of my friends. I was legitimately surprised at how many who I’d not seen since before the pandemic I actually didn’t even recognize.

It was as if some horrible time demon had waved his wand over everyone’s face and aged them a hundred years overnight. Oh that Satan can be tricky.

The friends I did recognize seemed so much older and their faces were sporting more lines than Costco the day before a holiday.

I was completely taken off guard since when I look in the mirror I see someone aging gracefully, and bearing an acute resemblance to the person I was twenty-five years ago. Am I being sprinkled with fairy dust at night I wondered? Everyone looked so old and yet I didn’t feel that I had aged that much.

I suddenly felt so bad for everyone and wondered if there were group rates on plastic surgery in Beverly Hills.

I mean if everyone my age looks so old, I must look that way too. So why is it when I look in that dreaded looking glass I don’t see old?

Although, and here’s the really scary part, I see my mother. I think that means something here, but I refuse to acknowledge what.

Are my eyes much worse than I know? Could it be that my brain is off and isn’t perceiving the world as it should be?

Everyone else is ancient and I don’t see myself that way. Should I grab my toothbrush and a cat and start picking out my mummy case?

Something weird is going on here and I’m determined to know what it is.

I check out a woman I know who had a total face lift years ago and her face is filled with lines; and I’m not talking about the lines in a soliloquy by the Bard. Must be the light. Is there some special light in this room that creates wrinkling on human flesh?

No way I think when I see another friend who has single handedly kept the Botox industry in business. Her eyes were sporting more wrinkles than an un-ironed 1000 thread count cotton sheet.

The men looked seriously older with tires around their waists and numerous lines around their eyes. Then there’s that thinning hair that seemed to be in a race to get to the back of their heads.

What the hell, I thought. Who are these old people and what have they done with my friends?

It was obvious looking around who had found the good plastic surgeons and availed themselves of their services, but did I look so old to everyone or was I Cleopatra in a state of denial?

I suppose it is true that you don’t see yourself as old until you look at your friends. Then suddenly reality kicks you in the butt like a goat you just stepped on and woke up from its nap. OUCH!

Ageing is painful and difficult to deal with without having it shoved down your throat…and speaking of my neck which sorry, I don’t even think I have the strength to do.

It seems no matter how much plastic surgery one endures, and I’m also talking about the pain of receiving the surgeon’s bill, Vicodin protects you from the other effects, the years are not kind to your face. No matter what, Father Time, that son of a bitch always gets the last laugh.

I know women who’ve had their neck done only to make their eyes look more wrinkled and hooded.

Then there are my jowls that make me want to go around saying… “So Buffalo Bob, who is on the show today?”

“Well, Howdy, we have a plastic surgeon from Beverly Hills with us. He’s going to fix those puppet lines on your face and give Princess Summer Fall Winter Spring a boob lift.”

I won’t even try on clothes in a store anymore. I can’t face the damn dressing room mirror. Those lights make me look like a chicken that was in the oven too damn long.

I search Google for testimonials by women who once looked a hundred and used a cream and woke up looking fifty. I can’t find a single one.

And yet there are ads all over with Oprah hyping gummy bears that allow you to lose fifty pounds in a week. So why can’t they invent a miracle gummy bear that removes wrinkles in a week?

We could kill two birds with one stone there; my craving for sugar and looking ancient.

Cleopatra killed herself with an asp to avoid being humiliated by Octavian. But did she really? Maybe she looked in the mirror and saw a wrinkle. Cleo figured  despite all those jewels around her neck the hanging would soon commence. Let’s face it the girl was a serious narcissist.  So instead of ageing she called the asp over and went to sleep. That’s one alternative to looking like an old crone. If you’ll notice there are no statues of Cleo as an old broad. Smart play, Girl.

I am certain that my friends don’t see themselves as old when they look in the mirror any more than I do. Oh sure we notice little things like those three additional chins and how our lipstick bleeds onto our nose. How can we not when we have to lift our neck to wash our chest?

But all in all, there is a certain sense of denial that comes with the years.

We actually see ourselves in two dimensions at the same time, where the young us and the old us combine, which puts us somewhere in the middle.

It’s a gift God gave women to make up for the whole Harvey Weinstein thing he knew would exist.

So there is really no way to see ourselves as we truly look because our brain inserts the youthful us into our eyes whenever we look into a mirror.

Sure, the Devil sneaks in sometimes and provides the magnifying mirror or overhead lights to cause some pain, but our brain always protects us from the harsh reality of youth’s loss.

Every woman would like to look as she did when she was thirty. Even if she was sporting her old nose and tiny boobs.

So because we can’t go back in time Benjamin Button style, we have to tell ourselves it’s okay. Thus we simply apply the make-up and creams with lots of hope and constant prayer. Isn’t it amazing how religious a woman can become when putting on her face?

My Howdy Doody Dumplings

I package of egg roll wrappers

canned salmon

1 can cream of mushroom soup

1 8 oz cream cheese softened

1 cup of baby peas

¼ cup of crushed ritz crackers

¼ cup red pepper chopped finely

½ teaspoon of lemon juice

salt and pepper to taste

1 egg

water

Mix half the can of soup with softened cream cheese

break up salmon into small pieces and add I cup to the soup mixture

Add salt and pepper to taste and mix well into everything is incorporated.

Mix the egg with some water

Place a large tablespoon of the mixture onto the egg roll wrapper and brush the edges with egg mix and fold it in half and seal it well.

Brush the top with egg wash and place on a sheet pan with parchment paper that has been sprayed with oil.

You can either boil the dumplings or fry them in butter. I’ve never tried them in the air fryer, but I imagine they might work in there.

Use the leftover soup with a half cup of half and half and some salt and pepper as a sauce and serve with rice or mashed potatoes.