How's the Weather Down There?

(To be honest and give credit where credit is due, the inspiration for this one came from a comment my wife made. The rest is mine, but she did inspire it. So there! ST)

“OK, here we go. (dialing phone) 4-1-1.”

“Hello? Information?-----What city?-----Well it’s not really a city, (under breath) though Detroit may come real close.-----What’s that?-----Oh, nothing. I’m just wanting to know the phone number for hell. -----How do you spell it? H-e-l-l. You know double toothpicks . . . Double hockey sticks? Hades? The Inferno? The Nether World?-----Yes, that hell. Do you have a listing?-----Oh, good. What is it?-----(repeating) 1-800-666-6666. I should have known. Oh, well. Thank you very much. You can connect me for no extra charge? That would be great. Thank you.”

(Ringing)

“Oh, hello. Is this Hell?-----It is? Wow! To whom am I speaking?-----Oh, so you’re not the big guy?-----No, I guess I wouldn’t be answering the phone if I were him either. Sorry.-----What do I want? Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I don’t want to waste your time. Although, as I understand it, you pretty much have eternity on your hands, there, right?-----Sorry. Forget I even said that. -----Yes, to get to the point. OK . . . well . . . I was just wondering . . . how’s the weather down there?-----Yes, the weather.-----Why would I care about the weather in hell?-----Am I planning a visit soon? Oh, no, nothing like that. Or at least I hope not. It’s just that . . . well . . . there have been some developments up here, top side that got me to thinkin' it may not be quite as hot as it usually is down there.-----What developments?

Well, for starters, my daughter, Becky . . . oh, yes, I’m sure you know of her. But listen, she’s a fantastic kid, or young woman, now. Always has been, but I"m no fool. I know she had her moments. I’ve got the gray hairs to prove it. Well, you see, she straightened up, started going to church, and went so far as to marry a minister. Well, yes I was glad.-----Of, course. -----Yes, I understand.-----I’m sure your boss wasn't. In fact, I’m sure some heads rolled for losing that one.-----Yeah, that’s what I thought. Well, that’s not the worst of it.

Next, there is my son.-----Yes, Jesse. A pretty good boy, though I know he’s pulled a few shenanigans, himself.-----He what? I didn’t know that. I guess I’m going to have to have a talk with him. Anyway, I’m not real worried about him; at least I wasn’t until you started talking, but he’s one of those young people that I call “hosers”. He’s never really been a slacker, but these hosers are just different. They don’t see the need to look or act particularly normal, or even dress well, unless it’s a holiday or something then it’s a bit overboard with the outfits and hats and even colored hair and stuff. I don’t really know if he’s a gen X, Y, Z or what, but as most generations of parents before us, we’ve all wondered if the generation that follows ours is ever going to get it together.-----Yes, I know, eternity not withstanding, I’m wasting your time. Sorry. Well, here’s the deal. Jesse now works at the Target Corporate headquarters and, get this, he wears a tie to work. Can you believe that?-----Well, yes, I’m sure you know about it. Of course. You’ve got your ways. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm unbelieveably happy for him. But I'm just a bit blown away at the same time. Jesse . . . corporate office . . . shirt and tie!

Now just settle down. I'm tryin' to get to the point. There is one last thing, though.


Last week, Gayle and I . . . now don’t start telling me stuff about her. I don’t want to know.-----Good. You had me worried there for a minute.-----Oh, so now you're the comedian? I guess I deserved that one. Well, last week we were coming out of a restaurant when we ran into one of Jesse’s good friends. You know the guys he calls Tokes?-----Yeah, that’s him, the founding member of the long running Punk band, Nuke.-----Yeah, his real name is Chris. Well, the thing is, when I first met him, he was about 14 and had a long, colored, spiked Mohawk to go with his complete and utter devotion to his band and punk music in general. Later he shaved his head. Oh, yeah, he had that pet alligator for a long time. Then he got some tattoos, and you know the whole Punk bit. I’m sure you have a number of them down there. Well, this time, when we met Chris . . . Tokes, his hair was normal, he was with his young wife, and his new baby. Can you imagine this died in the wool punker with a wife and kid?-----Well, yeah, I know it happens, but I didn’t ever expect it from him. But here’s the real kicker. The band, Nuke finally broke up. I never thought it would, but that’s not the worst part. Chris, or Tokes, is now playing old school country and western music.-----Yes, he is. -----You mean you didn’t even know that? I guess your network isn’t quite as good as you thought. But it’s the truth. Country and western. You know, Johnny Cash, and Hank Williams and the like. And he swears he likes it!

My point?-----Not the time thing again?-----Well, my point is this. With all this going on up here, the wife and I were wondering how the weather was doing down there.

Really?-----Frozen over?-----No kidding. Completely?-----No thaw in the forecast? Wow! Can’t say I’m surprised, though. With all that’s been going on up here, if you know what I mean. Heck, the Eagles’ reunion . . . yeah, the first one, is nothing compared to all of this. Well, I won’t waste any more of your eternity . . . I mean time.-----Yeah, I know. I’m a funny guy. And you should learn to lighten up, hellfire and brimstone and eternity not withstanding. I’m sure things will heat up soon enough. Kind of makes you understand us Minnesotans a little better though, don’t you think?

Anyway, good-bye.

ST