Several weeks ago, I had the opportunity of a lifetime. I was granted an interview with God. Now, I know what you're saying: "Yeah, right. Like God would talk to YOU." Well, he didn't talk TO me - he talked WITH me, and boy, it was nothing like I expected. I received a call about a month ago saying to meet him at Jake's Burgers, which is a local legend for, well, burgers. When I arrived, he was already finishing up a jalapeno burger and kicking it down with a chocolate-vanilla shake and crab fries. He didn't look the way I expected. I mean, the hair and teeth were right on target, but the Ray-Ban aviator shades threw me a bit.
As I walked over the gravel parking lot after getting out of my car, he gave me one of those big arm waves, like he was trying to hail a cab in the rain. I had already eaten, but he pushed the crab fries plate at me and gestured towards the paper cup of wine vinegar. As I reached for my pen and notepad, images of ZZ Top videos ricocheted through my mind. With that, I was ready for the interview of a lifetime...
Me: So...God, what's new?
God: Are you kidding me? You have a chance to talk to the creator of the universe and that's the first thing you can ask me? Why don't you ask me about my son, Jesus? Or what I think of the world's religions? How about my favorite movie?
Me: Ok, what is your favorite movie?
God: The Breakfast Club. I felt I could really relate to those kids.
Me: That wasn't really a serious ques...
God: Although I laughed my ass off watching Blazing Saddles. Do you remember the campfire scene?
Me: It was a classic. So, anyway, God, what motivated you to submit yourself to an interview?
God: I need the publicity.
Me: You? C'mon!
God: It's the truth. With so many people killing and dying in my name, there is a growing segment of the global population that is doubting that I even exist. You know the ones: "How could a wise, all-powerful God allow all of this suffering?"
Me: Well, since the question's on the table...
God: Free will! Free will, man! You think I set you bozos up so I would have to pull your strings 24/7? I have so much more on my plate than man. Ever look outside at night and see the billions and billions of stars?
Me: Yeah.
God: Guess who is responsible for all that? ME! While you're worried about your sickly 401ks and your low-carb diets, I have a freaking universe to run! Not only that, but I have hockey practice Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.
Me: Must be a real drag.
God: Tell me about it. Hey, toss me one of those Marlboros. I usually smoke Menthol but I forgot to stop by the store on the way here.
Me: So, is Jesus really man's savior? Is he really your son?
God: Do you have kids?
Me: No.
God: Well, let me tell you something about being a single parent. There I am, busting my ass, creating this little universe, with the light and the animals and the plants and all that business, and I basically give it to my kid and tell him to die for man's sins. I mean, it's not like I asked him to cut the grass or clean the pool, which, was a huge waste of money for me since all he did was walk across it. I guess I can't complain. He was a good kid. Never bugged me for money, kind of found his own way, but some days, whoa! it was like he was the anti-Christ...
Me: You mean...?
God: Figure of speech, Einstein. I mean, I love him all right, but's kind of tough when your only son doesn't fight back. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that I'm a pretty tough cat, myself. Here, let me roll up my sleeves. See that? Feel them. Feel those guns.
Me: I'd rather not. Hey, is that a tattoo?
God: Where?
Me: Right there! Does that say "Judas"?
God: Oh, hold on, let me roll it up more. There it is.
Me: Ah! "Judas Priest"! I didn't know you were into metal.
God: I'm not into the hair metal thing, like Poison and Motley Crue. But, I played bass and I can play "Smoke On The Water" from Deep Purple. Thinking about taking up drums.
Me: But, what about the Satanic symbolism in heavy metal music?
God: Please! Have you ever SEEN Satan?
Me: I used to date her.
God: Cut the comedy, kid. Leave it to the pros. Well, Satan doesn't look like what you think he looks like.
Me: What does he look like?
God: He looks like...oh, what's that dude's name? Deezen! Eddie Deezen. He looks like Eddie
Deezen.
As I walked over the gravel parking lot after getting out of my car, he gave me one of those big arm waves, like he was trying to hail a cab in the rain. I had already eaten, but he pushed the crab fries plate at me and gestured towards the paper cup of wine vinegar. As I reached for my pen and notepad, images of ZZ Top videos ricocheted through my mind. With that, I was ready for the interview of a lifetime...
Me: So...God, what's new?
God: Are you kidding me? You have a chance to talk to the creator of the universe and that's the first thing you can ask me? Why don't you ask me about my son, Jesus? Or what I think of the world's religions? How about my favorite movie?
Me: Ok, what is your favorite movie?
God: The Breakfast Club. I felt I could really relate to those kids.
Me: That wasn't really a serious ques...
God: Although I laughed my ass off watching Blazing Saddles. Do you remember the campfire scene?
Me: It was a classic. So, anyway, God, what motivated you to submit yourself to an interview?
God: I need the publicity.
Me: You? C'mon!
God: It's the truth. With so many people killing and dying in my name, there is a growing segment of the global population that is doubting that I even exist. You know the ones: "How could a wise, all-powerful God allow all of this suffering?"
Me: Well, since the question's on the table...
God: Free will! Free will, man! You think I set you bozos up so I would have to pull your strings 24/7? I have so much more on my plate than man. Ever look outside at night and see the billions and billions of stars?
Me: Yeah.
God: Guess who is responsible for all that? ME! While you're worried about your sickly 401ks and your low-carb diets, I have a freaking universe to run! Not only that, but I have hockey practice Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.
Me: Must be a real drag.
God: Tell me about it. Hey, toss me one of those Marlboros. I usually smoke Menthol but I forgot to stop by the store on the way here.
Me: So, is Jesus really man's savior? Is he really your son?
God: Do you have kids?
Me: No.
God: Well, let me tell you something about being a single parent. There I am, busting my ass, creating this little universe, with the light and the animals and the plants and all that business, and I basically give it to my kid and tell him to die for man's sins. I mean, it's not like I asked him to cut the grass or clean the pool, which, was a huge waste of money for me since all he did was walk across it. I guess I can't complain. He was a good kid. Never bugged me for money, kind of found his own way, but some days, whoa! it was like he was the anti-Christ...
Me: You mean...?
God: Figure of speech, Einstein. I mean, I love him all right, but's kind of tough when your only son doesn't fight back. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that I'm a pretty tough cat, myself. Here, let me roll up my sleeves. See that? Feel them. Feel those guns.
Me: I'd rather not. Hey, is that a tattoo?
God: Where?
Me: Right there! Does that say "Judas"?
God: Oh, hold on, let me roll it up more. There it is.
Me: Ah! "Judas Priest"! I didn't know you were into metal.
God: I'm not into the hair metal thing, like Poison and Motley Crue. But, I played bass and I can play "Smoke On The Water" from Deep Purple. Thinking about taking up drums.
Me: But, what about the Satanic symbolism in heavy metal music?
God: Please! Have you ever SEEN Satan?
Me: I used to date her.
God: Cut the comedy, kid. Leave it to the pros. Well, Satan doesn't look like what you think he looks like.
Me: What does he look like?
God: He looks like...oh, what's that dude's name? Deezen! Eddie Deezen. He looks like Eddie
Deezen.Me: That's hard to believe.
God: Hey, kid, nothing, and I mean NOTHING beats good PR, and Satan is with the best firm around. He uses Tom Cruise's agency.
Me: But people HATE Tom Cruise.
God: Yeah, but he still makes the cover of a half-dozen supermarket tabloids every week, doesn't he?
Me: Point taken. So, when does the world come to an end?
God: Not sure. I have no timeline.
Me: Yeah, but you're God. You must know.
God: Of course I know, but do you think I'm going to tell you? Next thing you know, you're on Oprah, or screaming about the end of the world on some city street corner wearing a sandwich board. Besides, who would believe you?
Me: Well, I have this interview right here.
God: Ok, Sparky, you're going to tell people that you interviewed me on the deck of Jake's Burgers? Get real, man!
Me: Well, does the world end the way Revelation says it is going to end?
God: Man thinks he knows how the world is going to end. He thinks he knows his future in the afterlife and what it will be like. I think that man is in for a surprise. A BIG surprise.
Me: Care to share a little bit more?
God: No. C'mon, man, help me eat these crab fries.
Me: Do you have a message for mankind? Anything I can pass along?
God: Nope. You're on your own. After all, you people wouldn't have it any other way. I gave you free will. I have no interest in controlling mankind. I'm God, not George Steinbrenner.
Me: What about the...
God: The meaning of life? This old chestnut again. The meaning of life is to have a life of meaning, which means, yes, that the meaning of life is different for everyone. Want a tidy answer? There it is, sport. Slap a bow on it.
Me: What do you think of George Carlin saying you don't exist?
God: I hate to beat on the free will drum again, but, y'know... Anyway, I kind of wish I had his audience.
Me: But, don't you have billions of worshippers?
God: Yeah, but he attracts a hipper audience. You won't find the American Gothic crowd at one of his shows. I still get a kick out of his "Seven Dirty Words" routine.
Me: What...
God: Look, Ken...
Me: Kevin
God: Kevin. Whatever. Instead of asking me these tired old stuffy questions, why don't you ask me something fun? 10 questions. Quick, off the top of your head. Go!
Me: Um, what's your favorite color?
God: Sea foam. Did the downstairs bathroom in that color.
Me: Favorite cereal?
God: Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch. Now you're getting the hang of it.
Me: Favorite album?
God: Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here"
Me: I would have thought "Dark Side of the Moon"
God: "Dark Side" is nice to chill to, but, I just learned how to play the opening to "Wish You Were Here" on guitar and I'm wearing out that CD right now. I usually just download off of Limewire, but, you don't get the same fidelity.
Me: Favorite food?
God: I'm a meat and potatoes kind of God, but sometimes all I want are chicken wings. Not too hot, though. I'm also not against eating Beefaroni straight out of the can.
Me: How about..?
God: Oh, and Godiva chocolate. Have you tried the chocolate raspberry?
Me: Favorite TV show?
God: Oooh, that's tough. We only get basic cable, but I just picked up the entire Sopranos series on eBay.
Me: So, do you know how it ends?
God: Of course I know how it ends - I'm God. I can't BELIEVE they copped out with that ending. I thought Tony was going to get whacked, but then I didn't want him to, but part of me still did. I'll never be able to listen to "Don't Stop Believing" without kicking my Playstation across the room.
Me: Ok, last question, but it has five parts: If you could have dinner...
God: With any five people throughout time, who would they be? You know, I always liked this question. Ok, here goes: Spike Lee, Rachael Ray, that Burger King dude, Jimmy Smits and Justin Timberlake.
Me: You've GOT to be kidding me.
God: Nope. Swear-to-Me. Look, I have to roll. Marshall's is having a sale on cargo shorts and we're almost into summer. Anything else you want to ask me?
Me: I'm sure I'll have a lot to ask you in the afterlife when I'm in Heaven.
God: Yeah, ok. Remember what I said about a "BIG surprise". Here, chief, you can pick up the tab. Nice chatting with you. And stop picking your nose in the car. I can see when you do that and we both know you don't wipe it on a tissue.
Me: Thanks, Lord. You're a real peach.
God: Don't mention it. Ever.
God: Hey, kid, nothing, and I mean NOTHING beats good PR, and Satan is with the best firm around. He uses Tom Cruise's agency.
Me: But people HATE Tom Cruise.
God: Yeah, but he still makes the cover of a half-dozen supermarket tabloids every week, doesn't he?
Me: Point taken. So, when does the world come to an end?
God: Not sure. I have no timeline.
Me: Yeah, but you're God. You must know.
God: Of course I know, but do you think I'm going to tell you? Next thing you know, you're on Oprah, or screaming about the end of the world on some city street corner wearing a sandwich board. Besides, who would believe you?
Me: Well, I have this interview right here.
God: Ok, Sparky, you're going to tell people that you interviewed me on the deck of Jake's Burgers? Get real, man!
Me: Well, does the world end the way Revelation says it is going to end?
God: Man thinks he knows how the world is going to end. He thinks he knows his future in the afterlife and what it will be like. I think that man is in for a surprise. A BIG surprise.
Me: Care to share a little bit more?
God: No. C'mon, man, help me eat these crab fries.
Me: Do you have a message for mankind? Anything I can pass along?
God: Nope. You're on your own. After all, you people wouldn't have it any other way. I gave you free will. I have no interest in controlling mankind. I'm God, not George Steinbrenner.
Me: What about the...
God: The meaning of life? This old chestnut again. The meaning of life is to have a life of meaning, which means, yes, that the meaning of life is different for everyone. Want a tidy answer? There it is, sport. Slap a bow on it.
Me: What do you think of George Carlin saying you don't exist?
God: I hate to beat on the free will drum again, but, y'know... Anyway, I kind of wish I had his audience.
Me: But, don't you have billions of worshippers?
God: Yeah, but he attracts a hipper audience. You won't find the American Gothic crowd at one of his shows. I still get a kick out of his "Seven Dirty Words" routine.
Me: What...
God: Look, Ken...
Me: Kevin
God: Kevin. Whatever. Instead of asking me these tired old stuffy questions, why don't you ask me something fun? 10 questions. Quick, off the top of your head. Go!
Me: Um, what's your favorite color?
God: Sea foam. Did the downstairs bathroom in that color.
Me: Favorite cereal?
God: Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch. Now you're getting the hang of it.
Me: Favorite album?
God: Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here"
Me: I would have thought "Dark Side of the Moon"
God: "Dark Side" is nice to chill to, but, I just learned how to play the opening to "Wish You Were Here" on guitar and I'm wearing out that CD right now. I usually just download off of Limewire, but, you don't get the same fidelity.
Me: Favorite food?
God: I'm a meat and potatoes kind of God, but sometimes all I want are chicken wings. Not too hot, though. I'm also not against eating Beefaroni straight out of the can.
Me: How about..?
God: Oh, and Godiva chocolate. Have you tried the chocolate raspberry?
Me: Favorite TV show?
God: Oooh, that's tough. We only get basic cable, but I just picked up the entire Sopranos series on eBay.
Me: So, do you know how it ends?
God: Of course I know how it ends - I'm God. I can't BELIEVE they copped out with that ending. I thought Tony was going to get whacked, but then I didn't want him to, but part of me still did. I'll never be able to listen to "Don't Stop Believing" without kicking my Playstation across the room.
Me: Ok, last question, but it has five parts: If you could have dinner...
God: With any five people throughout time, who would they be? You know, I always liked this question. Ok, here goes: Spike Lee, Rachael Ray, that Burger King dude, Jimmy Smits and Justin Timberlake.
Me: You've GOT to be kidding me.
God: Nope. Swear-to-Me. Look, I have to roll. Marshall's is having a sale on cargo shorts and we're almost into summer. Anything else you want to ask me?
Me: I'm sure I'll have a lot to ask you in the afterlife when I'm in Heaven.
God: Yeah, ok. Remember what I said about a "BIG surprise". Here, chief, you can pick up the tab. Nice chatting with you. And stop picking your nose in the car. I can see when you do that and we both know you don't wipe it on a tissue.
Me: Thanks, Lord. You're a real peach.
God: Don't mention it. Ever.
4 comments:
Excellent!!! Worth waiting for...your wit has been missed.
Kevin ... I am so glad you are back ... I have missed your writing ... and as Simply said ... worth waiting for!!!!! ... a GREAT interview!!!!
Your imagination and humor continue to explode with each successive story. This has got to be one of your best...possibly THE BEST. Don't wait so long between contributions in the future. That's an order!!!
God called me the other day, how did he get my number? Anyway, he said you were a talented guy with a sharp wit. I had to agree.
Love, Mom
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