06 April 2015

Easter 2007

Repost from April 12, 2009

Some years ago I moved from Chicago to Florida on Easter weekend. After living and working in my ex-wife's wonderful home for almost 21 years - -I was going back to one of my own homes.

It was in the 30's when I left Chicago early Friday morning. The CD player was loaded with discs and it was smooth sailing until the magazine jammed just outside Memphis. I later learned how to un-jam the player by striking the magazine with a cheap ball point pen a couple times. But outside Memphis I was forced to turn on the radio. Amazingly (or not), the powerful signals all belonged to Christian stations and NPR was no match. Like Air Traffic Control, I was passed from one station to another and their version of The Passion. At first I was frustrated but grew curious as the liberal in me marveled at the music and southern perspective.

I made Chattanooga my Rest Over Night point and figured I'd drive around downtown and look for a proper hotel with secured parking rather than park at Holiday Inn on the interstate and listen to 18 wheelers down shift throughout the night. A sound I grew up detesting as an Army Brat.

I exited the highway and was dumped in front of the perfect hotel. Nine or so stories, brick, mid to late 19th century. Perfect. A call from my cell to reservations as I drove around the hotel --a vacancy at $70 a night. Perfect. I pull in and my station wagon filled with art (worth little to anyone but me) is valeted into a secure garage. Perfect. I check in and inquire if there's a decent steak restaurant close by. Before I can qualify that by decent I don't mean Outback, the desk clerk tells me they have a steak restaurant in the lobby. Perfect. I throw a bag in my room and run down to the restaurant. A rib eye, half a bottle of Cabernet and truffle mac and cheese. Perfect. Upstairs my bed has a down pad on top of the mattress. I lie down on one of the five best beds of my life. Perfect. And I dream...

I'm in a nondescript office waiting room. A man walks in and tells me, "Jesus will see you now." I get up and follow the man into another nondescript room. Jesus sits on a metal folding chair in the middle of the room in a white robe with his legs crossed. His bare feet in sandals. A clip board on his lap. I sit down in the empty folding chair across from him and cross my legs. The man leaves us in the room alone.

Jesus raises the clip board and starts to read from it but before he does there's a glance at my feet as he lowers the clip board and smiles, "Before we begin, I just wanted to comment on your socks. They're always so colorful." I look at my socks and look up at Jesus, "You like my - - socks?" Jesus leans forward, "Absolutely, I can tell you really make an effort." I ask, "That pleases you, Jesus?" "Yes," He says. "If it pleases you - - It pleases me." And I woke up.

I lay in bed that night and thought about the dream and realized how calm I was. I easily fell back to sleep and the next morning I watched the sun rise and reflected on the dream. Still unsure of what it meant but smiling to myself as I turned the radio on and headed home.

9 comments:

Ben said...

Ahhhh. A bonafide Tintin post, even a re-run, is better than nothing. This is how I feel when I start watching NFL's Greatest Games on the NFL Network in the summer. I'm always hoping for 1986 Bears-Patriots, but even 1982's Niners-Phins is good enough in June.

M.Lane said...

Classic. Welcome back my friend.
ML

Anonymous said...

It seems forever since you've posted from last time. Please post more.

Anonymous said...

Sounds like the Read House. A favorite.

Anonymous said...

I want what you had before bedtime.

-DB

Billax said...

What an extraordinary post! I was left wondering what the heck you were wearing. Were you wearing shoes?Were they Penny loafers or Balmorals? At least in my conception, he doesn't often comment on socks. Your effort, your coordination, your texture match must have been so perfect that the perfect one noticed and commended you!

If I had that dream, I'd wake up just as I was about to look at what socks I was wearing. :sad:

Anonymous said...

Not an instagramian, but thought I'd say howdy. Miss your blog. Ta'ter

Averyl said...

I hope you return to blogging.

Anonymous said...

tradster we miss you!