Just Like Heaven
There's a guy at my office who's always telling me corny jokes or reading me pages from his corny-joke desk calendars (he appears to have several). One of the desk calendars is 365 days of "You Might Be a Redneck" jokes (stay with me). This man is a mechanical engineer, and has a Hungarian accent, so you can imagine the new twist this puts on the comedic stylings of Jeff Foxworthy.
With many people--many, many people--I would find this endlessly annoying. But with this guy, I don't know. It's corny but sweet. He's much older than me, and it's like he's trying to be my grandpa. I keep expecting him to pull a quarter out from behind my ear.
Today he read me one that says "You might be a redneck if...you hope heaven is a lot like Hooters."
So then I found myself discussing Hooters (the restaurant chain, not the actual anatomy) with this guy, which was uncomfortable to say the least.
But it got me thinking...what do I hope heaven is like?
The answer occurred to me immediately, and I think I don't have to tell you what it was.
That said, with the Sox hosting Christmas at Fenway this Friday and Saturday, and with me bound and determined to get to more games in 2005 (read: more than two), what should I do? Should I get up early (well, early for me on a Saturday morning) and refresh and redial endlessly? Or is it a better bet to go sleep on the sidewalk near Fenway?