Historical September–October 2023 article. Dates, prices, services and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
This saga began two issues ago when I shared being at the cemetery visiting my mom’s grave, talking to her, sort of. Angel Fred, wearing a name tag (that’s how I knew his name), tennis shoes, a corduroy sports coat, and wings appeared, and told me that a coven of angels wanted my help in reversing declines in church attendance. Traditional media sources cannot be trusted, he said, and they wisely recognized the reach and veracity of In Your Ear! People know about Dante’s levels of hell, Angel Fred proclaimed, but not about the levels of Heaven, so spreading the word about the levels of Heaven would be my task. Who could resist unlimited snacks and your dog living forever?
But first I needed to be educated. So in the previous episodes I, gasp, visited hell. Yep, it was horrible, worse even than having a root canal with no novacain while fire ants are in your pants and you had to listen to Lawrence Welk! That’s where I left you in the spring, and now… When I began to awaken, everything was a blur.
I remembered feeling the intense heat as I passed out along with the misspelled neon Welcome signs and dancing snakes in hell, but now things seemed chilly, almost cold. Everything was fuzzy but a beam of light from a metal nametag that said ANGEL FRED jarred me awake. Suddenly it all came back to me. Angel Fred wanted me to use my In Your Ear column to spread the word about the levels of Heaven!
But that’s all I remembered.
Now he was leaning over me. “Are you OK, Hawkeye?” he asked, concern showing through the tiny feathers on his face. “I suppose that I should have given you some warning about what the levels of hell would be like before we visited.” “That’s alright,” I quickly responded, “I wouldn’t have gone there if I had seen the tourist brochures.” Besides, I thought, always looking for the positive, this temporary sojourn to hell ensured that I would live a good and clean life from now on. At least until the end of the week.
A huge grin spilled on to Angel Fred’s face and he announced, “And now for the excitement. You get to see the levels of Heaven!” I swore I heard a drumroll but we were in a desolate cemetery so how could that be? (Oops, I need to stop swearing. Damn!) “Fasten your seatbelt!” yelled Angel Fred ominously, but I wasn’t wearing one! Suddenly I felt air rushing past me and I was moving higher and higher, twirling slowly.
I felt like I was in a self-driving Tesla, caroming up the highway in the sky, but still no seatbelt.
My hearing aids became supercharged because I could hear birds chirping and waves crashing against a beach. For a moment I thought I heard the Rolling Stones singing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” but that had to be a mistake. No way would Mick and the team be part of Heaven’s greeting committee.
I knew that I was in outer space somewhere because the Earth was getting progressively smaller.
But I could smell freshly baked cookies! What is happening?
We began to slow and white clouds appeared at my feet.
A huge chocolate chip cookie was in my hand, and I realized that I was standing in a giant hot fudge sundae. What? Those white clouds were really marshmallow sauce. Puzzled, I began to munch on the cookie.
It was delicious and I wanted to eat slowly and savor it but I saw that after each bite the cookie immediately regenerated itself so it remained new even as I ate it.
I chomped more quickly.
An ice cream silo appeared in my other hand, I bit, and it was better than Ted Drewes. Imagine that!
The music became louder, and look, I saw that the Rolling Stones were just across from me, singing in the flesh while also eating chocolate chip cookies and ice cream. Mick never sounded so vibrant!
He nodded at me with a thumbs-up, and I reciprocated. How good is this?
The Stones’ volume decreased and suddenly Angel Fred was in front of me. Smiling mischievously, he said, “Welcome to Level Three of Heaven.” I ate another bite of cookie and chugged a gulp of ice cream.
It wasn’t diminishing either!
But I had questions. “Where is everyone
else?
I mean, this is great but what about my family and friends?” I swallowed. “And is there pizza too?” “Heaven has seven levels,” Angel Fred responded, sounding a bit professorial, “and the first three are not group endeavors.” He rolled his eyes. “There are many, many misassumptions about Heaven, but let’s begin with this one. “You see, the first three levels of each person’s Heaven are his – oops, make that his or her – unique bliss. Level One is limited to a solitary painless existence with Netflix and endless pathways down memory lane, not bad.
In Level Two, better, you also have access to Apple TV and Hulu. Level Three, that’s where we are now, is more idiosyncratic. You are still alone but your impulses and desires are being met and met again. How Heavenly is that?
But there’s more. Look to your left and check out a giant 3-D video screen that features every movie that won an Academy Award, and you can watch them all simultaneously. Oh yeah,” Angel Fred continued, “and there’s endless buttered popcorn.” Wow, I thought, I can see why they call this Heaven, and I ate some more ice cream. Angel Fred took a deep breath and continued, “Levels Four through Seven include various configurations of others who are in Heaven, and we’re not restricted by time or place. That’s why your dad and his four wives could all be here together and apart at the same time.” I smiled because I knew that dad would like this arrangement. “These last few levels of Heaven go beyond mere pleasure. There, people, I mean angels, work collaboratively to improve Heaven.” Puzzled I was. “Improve Heaven? Isn’t Heaven, by definition, well, Heaven? How can you improve on perfection?” “That’s another Earthling misunderstanding,” said Angel Fred, shaking his head in disapproval. “First, there is joy and satisfaction that comes from working together to make progress, and that would be absent in a perfect Heaven. Angels set group goals and have parties to celebrate their achievements. Sometimes they even try to influence what’s happening on Earth.” Angel Fred’s wings fluttered a bit and he smiled with pride, “You know enough now to begin spreading the word about the levels of Heaven. Your column, Hawkeye, can start a landslide of public opinion to help fill the pews!
Finally, here’s a tip from our Angel Marketing Department: Begin by mentioning the endless buttered popcorn.”
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, September–October 2023.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times2023_09.pdf, printed page(s) 8; PDF page(s) 8.
