(This was written quite a while ago. Sorry)
I trust everyone had a happy and safe Halloween? I hope so because I did. Actually it was the best one yet. Anyway I am going to post a blog that I have been giving great thought about over the years. You see, I am the type of person to really beat a nonsensical notion to death. One of notion is this odd idea I have of the afterlife. I don’t believe that we will be living on clouds with wings and halos because, to be honest, I am far from deserving a halo. But what I am hoping for is an abundance of the Earthly pleasures we enjoy here and now, without the consequences. Here is an example.
I die. Let’s say I am pissing and drying my hair at the same time because I really want to go out in style. Regardless, I cease to live and I find myself on an escalator to the great beyond. (I do believe there is an escalator of some sort) Once I get to where I am going there will be a door. That door will have a sliding eye-hole and behind it is a guy who asks for the password. (I hope it’s a cartoon ape, I hope it’s a cartoon ape) And some how I know it. I don’t know how I know it, but I do.
Now this idea I have is so wacky that I think many religions are started this way so if you watch CNN in a few years and see me in a compound, you can say you knew me when. Ok, where was I? Oh yeah, so the password will determine whether you get in or go to Hell. In my world, Hell is standing for an eternity on the waiting list for IHOP on a Sunday morning. So be good for goodness sake!
Of course I will say the right one. And beyond the door will be a smoke free English pub with every TV on VH1 Classic, ESPN Classic Bowling 1979-’84, Alf, DOG The Bounty Hunter, and To Catch A Predator (We can poke fun of the people that will be waiting at IHOP forever). I will have a seat at the bar and the seat to my right will be vacant. When I ask the bartender (who is Ernie Pantusso from Cheers) what is new, he will know my name and my drink and say, “Will, it hasn’t been the same without you”. Then he will hand me a menu.
The menu is a list of everyone I have ever wanted to meet and have a drink with. All I have to do is pick a name and they will stroll up, have a seat next to me and order a drink. And then I can strike up a conversation and ask all the questions I have ever wanted to know and listen to the stories that I have always wanted to hear. That would be Heaven for me. Good drink, good conversation and Coach as my bartender. These are my picks for my first day in heaven.
“Romell, you magnificent bastard, I read your BOOOOOK!” God, I would love to hang out with George C. Scott. That guy was one of the greatest actors of our time. Can you imagine the stories this guy had? The parties of Hollywood elite when it was good to be elite. Today the Hollywood elite is equivalent to a dump in a Smucker’s jar but back then, that was acting. And I think our conversation would be quite intriguing.
I wonder what his drink of choice would be? I peg him for a Dwars and a splash guy. In his later years he wasn’t the pillar of health so I imagine that Dwars to be accompanied by a fine cigar and a plate of cream cheese finger sandwiches. I know that my Heaven pub is smoke free but it’s freakin’ George C. Scott, man! Even in the afterlife there are exceptions.
Keith Moon! Can this guy party or what? If you are unfamiliar with Keith, he was the late drummer of The Who, who set the standard on how to be a reckless partying rock star. If there was alcohol, he drank it. If there was something to be snorted, he sniffed it. If there was a hotel room to be destroyed, he not only destroyed the room but the entire hotel. In fact the Holiday Inn still has a ban on The Who today.
He and I would drink a few shots and I would ask him about diving into an empty swimming pool as we have a laugh. To be in the presence of the guy who named Led Zeppelin, inspired Beatle songs, the first to use on stage pyrotechnics, and beyond all else his work with The Who would be fascinating. Now that is a slice of fried gold! Oh yeah, did you know Keith died in the same room Mama Cass from The Mamas and the Papas died in? She didn’t really die choking on a ham sandwich, did she?
As for Keith’s drink I bet that he would drink……everything. And chase it with a bar mat strained shot. For those unfamiliar with that it’s all the spilled alcohol that is collected at the end of the night. I call it a “OH MY FUCKING HELL WHY WOULD YOU DRINK THAT” shot.
“Well in the words of Harry S. Truman, if it’s too hot in the kitchen, stay away from the cook.” I would love to hang out for a few hours Archie Bunker. Not Carroll O’Connor but the character Archie. Hey, when I’m dead and gone I believe this will be possible. I also believe I will drink with Hobbes too so go with me on this one.
The real reason I want to rock out with Archie is so he can call me a Meathead. Is that so wrong to want to be called a Meathead from an American icon? I don’t think so and if I’m good all year, put out cookies and leave a thank you note by the chimney, I think it is only fair that I can be accosted by Archie Bunker. Wait…I think I am confused.
This guy! Who wouldn’t like to tip a few back with Ted Knight? Especially when he does his “Pigs In Space” voice which I am sure would come out right after our third Bullshot. Oh! And ol’ Billy Barool! “Oh Billy Billy Billy Billy Billy.” I say this to myself every time I’m in an odd predicament.
John Candy. Oh geeze. If there is one person I would want to hang around for a while it would be John Candy. I was so sad when he passed away and even today I have a hard time watching certain scenes in his movies. Especially this one:
Ho man! Every time that part of the movie comes, depending on the company, I have to go to the kitchen or do push ups. Something! It’s pathetic to see a grown man whimper over a John Hughes movie.
Well, I bet we would have a blast! He’d reenact that classic scene in Uncle Buck when he flips a quarter to that principal and told her to have a rat chew that thing off her face. Uncle Melanoma head. We’d finish a bottle or two and toss some darts. Oh yeah, that aint purgatory!
The man, the legend. Bernie Mac is definition of cool for me. God, I still can’t believe he is not here with us. But I have faith I will be able to shake his hand someday. And you know what? This is one dude I don’t mind hogging the Holy Jukebox.
I imagine he would be sipping a snifter of VSO and chewing on a Cuban. Me? I would be chugging a Pabst Blue and catching Goldfish crackers in my mouth. And we could be completely happy with that. Damn, I miss Bernie Mac.
I know I am not alone on this one. Who wouldn’t want to spend some quality time with George Carlin? Who? I bet it would be a one sided conversation because I wouldn’t even know where to begin. He seemed like the type that could carry on without much of topic. I doubt he would get old but I could see myself wondering, “I wonder if Gallagher is dead?”
So that is my list. But don’t get me wrong, when I kick the bucket my first priority will still be spending eternity with loved ones. Like how I presume I will be going to Heaven?
Don’t worry! I won’t be buying the big dirt box condo yet. You are stuck with me and my gibberish for your reading-at-work pleasure. Hey! Why are you reading this at work anyway? 😉



I don’t know whether it’s because I live on a snow covered mountain secluded from anything that walks upright or the fact that I find my most important social interaction is in a bowling league, but I really enjoyed my day alone in the city of Philadelphia. So much to do and so little time. I will take you with me. So pretend we did this together.
Well, we have to take the trolly to the subway. Personally I love public transportation. Nobody talks to each other but if you are really lucky like we were, you’ll have a lady sitting behind you coughing her head off on your neck. I can hold my breath for a while but after that trip I was halucinating Carebears and Luck Dragons in business suits reading the newspaper.
After the tuberculosis scare we will walk quickly up the subway exit stairs to find ourselves in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the city center. It may just be me but I always hum the Willy Wonka song that Gene Wilder sings when he opens up the doors to his candy room. You know, the one with the chocolate river? The city is a place of pure inebriation. So many smells like car exhaust, steam pipes, pretzel carts and many mystery smells leading to a game I like to call “soup or poop”.
The one thing about Philadelphia is the amount of bronze statues. I would venture to say that this city has more than Vienna, Austria. But I guess it should since right where we were standing was where our country was formed. It almost makes your head spin when you think about it. But enough about that, I am on a mission. And that mission is to find where the Rocky statue is. We will do what ever you want after that is checked off the list. To the art museum!
I know this was a long hike but I know we are on the right track to the museum because this is the famous running scene from the movies Rocky and Rocky II. Aren’t you glad that I didn’t make us run it?
But you know we have to run these. Actually everyone was doing it so it’s not as silly as one would think. Except when I run them and trip.
The thing about the Art Museum of Philadelphia is that it is a full day activity. We have so much to see and only a day so we have to move with a purpose. But when you are looking at art from ?B.C. to present it is at least a three hour journey.
I was shocked that it only cost $10 to go through this. That’s cheaper than movie! And if you see a movie with Ben Affleck for more than $10 you really feel like a schmuck when for less, you have this. Did that even make sense?
I know you are not suppose to take pictures of paintings but you covered me. I mean look at this. The original “Moulin Rouge” from the French painter Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec! Can you believe we were within inches of it?
Not all Picasso paintings look like a butt with eyeballs. This is “Portrait of a Woman”. It is creepy but it’s a Picasso. So….you have to respect that.
This is my favorite one of them all. Actually it has been my favorite art piece for years and when we found it I made a sound like a girl who made the cheer-leading squad. But you don’t judge me, do you? I wish I was able to take a better picture of it. This is “Carnival Evening” by Henri Rousseau. It’s so dark and mysterious. I stared at it for at least 15 minutes.
Well, I dragged you from the year 300 to present and up and down three stories of art so I suppose you are a little hungry. And this is the town to eat! Let’s go!
This is such a pretty front to the museum. That’s not the original “Thinker” but it’s probably more famous and viewed by more tourists than the original. I made that up.
Do you know what I didn’t know? This was just apart of a larger art piece called “The Gates Of Hell” inspired by Dantes Inferno. Huh… But you already knew that.
Ok, ok! I know you are starving by now. I really want to go to Pat’s or Gino’s Cheese Steak stand but time is a factor. So, I asked for a recommendation and it’s a quirky place to eat called the Devil’s Alley. You need food and I need a beer. Hey, it’s vacation.

The food at the Devil’s Den is nothing to write home about but the decor is a home-run. I know we just were in the presence of art that inspired religon and started wars but this also cranks my tractor. Speak up if I embarrass you.
You know we would end up here. The infamous Eastern State Penitentiary. This is one of the most spooky and intimidating prisons in the U.S. by far. I didn’t know about it until the show Ghost Hunters did an investigation here a few years ago. But besides that, it has some serious history.
Back in the day, the prison system was a little medieval in their quest to rehabilitate inmates. The thought process was to isolate and repent. I can spend about two days alone before I start making up imaginary friends so the thought of spending years in isolation without a view is…actually I can’t even imagine. Charles Dickens took a tour through here and went back to the UK stating that he has seen the worst of humanity here. Now that’s history! Oh, and Al Capone was here too. But he was a dick.
It’s spooky to hear these doors slam in the background when no one is in the prison. The tour guides joke about the ghosts and seem to not even notice it. You can hold my hand. For dudes you can too because it’s not sissy if we thumb wrestle at the same time.
Well, if that wasn’t disturbing enough we are now going to the Mutter Museum. This is the museum of pathophysiology and abnormal human defects. This place makes you want to shower but it is so awesome.
Here we are! The place where they keep human skulls with a description of how they died, a cast of Siamese twins, a preserved gangrened hand in a jar, jars of deformed babies and a book made of human skin. Yeah, we are disturbed for sure. It’s a good thing we already ate.
Me: Oh my God! What the fuck is that!!!
Me: That dude is eating for two!
Me: Oh my….
Me: Can we go now?
Talk about the city of brotherly love! This is Dawn and Ashely, two local Penn State students who were nice enough to join us for brews, high-fives and picture sharing. We traded email addresses and were even given an invite for New Years Eve. Too bad that’s a travel day, huh? But what can you do? We made friends and that is what we set out to do.
So here they are. Do you like my sneaky picture? I had to cough over the “click” sound but to be honest, even if I didn’t, I don’t think they would have noticed. Or rather, I don’t think I would care.
There it is! The canvas for my Christmas expression! And it was only $6 so I can’t feel too bad if I butcher it with gaudy crap. It’s not like I went to the mall and picked up a Kashmir sweater. I just pray that no one died in it.
Yes. I went to Hancock Fabrics. Wanna fight about it? Ok, well I decided that on the back of the sweater I needed a reindeer’s ass. This was not on the said lost sweater. This is my invention. So you can see the antlers that I cut off a novelty headband and fabric to cut out the body from. I am the type of person that will always get the carpenter’s rule of thumb, “measure twice, cut once”, backwards. I just jumped in with a permanent marker and scissors and went to town.
Reindeer are males, right? It’s hard to imagine Donner and Blitzen as girls and if I am not mistaken, wasn’t Donner Rudolf’s father? Did I just make all that up? Oh well, he needs testicles so there will be no confusion. Christmas balls!
You can’t buy shit like this, folks! Seriously, where would you find this? Now for the front. This is where I have “borrowed” the idea from eBay. But that was sewn and I am gluing. I feel confident that the glue will hold because Billy May’s said it would. He has an outside voice.
Isn’t he cute? Well don’t get too attached because his head is coming off and I am gluing it to my sweater.
It’s kind of funny but Kootanee actually watches TV. About a second after I took the picture above a bear came on the television and Kootanee ran into the bathroom and it took me about a half an hour to get him to come out. Poor guy. I gave him the headless bodies.
Now that I safely decapped the snowmen it is now time for gluing. But first I had to measure the position they were to be in. This takes both precision and a degree of shamelessness. You’ll see why.
I have no shame. Who do I think I am? My Mom would be so disappointed in me. I apologize, I really do. Me and my naked feet.
As you can see I am going for the Madonna style with the carrot noses. They are not as big as I would like but they’ll do. Why should I complain, though? I have bigger issues like the fact am a 30 year old guy making a Christmas sweater.
I’m not going to lie to you, I am pretty proud of the way this turned out. Making crafts has never been my bag. I went on a date a long time ago to paint pottery and drink wine. It’s a quirky Atlanta thing. Anyway, I finished it, brought it home and it leaked. True, I didn’t make the bowl, but that was a sign that all things creative should not come from my kidneys. (points to forehead)
And it fits! That’s really all that matters anyway, right? Happy Holidays.
This is the trail right next to my place. It goes for miles without any human sounds or contact. This tranquility of being alone on a mountain while the snow is falling is just what one needs to clear the mind and remember who you are and why your here. I’m not too religious but it is hard to argue that God isn’t real when you are surrounded by beauty.
The sounds of the wind blowing through the trees and distant branches falling was so peaceful I felt as if I was the last person on earth. I walked about five miles up the mountain and sat down. Taking advantage of the situation I took out my iPod and listened to the only song that made sense of the moment and reflected on how lucky I am. Here it is, “The Wind” by Cat Stevens.