Twinkies and my Near Death Experience

I am 54 years old today, and in appreciation for all of the kind birthday wishes, I decided to share something super-duper personal with you. I haven’t exactly been given the go-ahead to share it, but I figure since we are all friends…

This might have happened:

Last year, a few days after Thanksgiving, I was outside my house, climbing an extension ladder with an armload of Christmas lights. As I neared the roofline, I came face-to-face with a big ol’ scorpion, which can happen in Arizona. I lurched backwards, my flip-flop slipped from the rung and I fell backwards off the ladder. I landed flat on my back, and whacked my head – and everything went black.

I know what you are thinking: “What kind of idiot climbs a ladder in flip-flops.” I get it.

As I lay there in darkness, I thought three things: 1) It is really dark, 2) The flip-flops were a bad idea, and 3) I’m definitely going to make the exterminator come back for a free follow-up.

Then I began to see a light, and I felt my body somehow being lifted up into the air, higher and higher until I was as high as my house. I slowly turned around and was shocked at what I saw: My lost Frisbee was on the roof, and it was my best one that had been missing for months. I also noticed two roof tiles that were broken.  Add that to the checklist of things to fix.

Then I realized I could see my body lying on the ground below me, and this was the first inclination that this might actually be very serious. My body was just flat on its back, motionless.

I looked terrible. I had to admit that I had really let myself go. And the cargo shorts needed to be put in the D.I. bag. I knew that I had gained a few pounds, but it looked more like a funhouse mirror than I would ever want to admit. It occurred to me that I was having a near death experience – or what the cool kids call an “NDE.”

My EC was going to be LIVID.

Suddenly, I began flying through the air at a speed I can only compare to the Superman ride at Magic Mountain. I entered a tunnel of light and left the earth behind. While I was flying, I tried to make sense of it all. Could this really be it? Had I really ended it all this way? What was to come?

It didn’t take long to find out. At least I don’t think it took long to find out, because I could tell that the concept of time was changing. I don’t want to get all “Stephen Hawking” on you, but let’s just say that time got goofy.

I found myself in a long hallway of sorts, full of tons of people. They were all dressed in white robes and looked really clean and tidy, and bored. I immediately felt out of place, mostly because of the cargo shorts, but I was proud to be wearing a BYU t-shirt. I didn’t recognize anyone I knew, but I did have a distinct feeling that they were judging me for my wardrobe choices.

A man approached me, carrying a white iPad. He looked remarkably like Jake, from State Farm. He escorted me down a hallway and into a small office that was furnished exactly like every bishop’s office in the Church. He invited me to take a seat, as he sat down across the desk from me.

“My name is Dave, and I’ll be assisting you today. I’m your Guardian Angel.”

“Wait!” I replied, “I don’t understand!”

‘Dave’ swiped a couple of times on his iPad (Which I noticed was an actual Apple-brand iPad) and answered, “My records show that while on earth, you watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” 83 times, and “Defending Your Life” at least a dozen – so I figure you know exactly what is going on.”

He had me there. I had already figured it out. I was dead, and this was my intake procedure. What a bummer. It probably wan’t the right time or place, but I decided to be a bit petulant.

“If you are my guardian angel, where were you a few minutes ago when I fell off that ladder.”

Dave didn’t take the bait. Without even looking up he said, “You have your agency. And you used it to wear flip-flops while climbing a ladder. Can’t help you there.”

“Can’t? Or Won’t?”

“Take your pick – same result. Now, lets get to this. Oh, and by the way, the BYU shirt was an excellent touch. It might help smooth the process up here. You would be surprised what a rude awakening it is when someone shows up sporting a Ute or Aggie shirt – or anything from the Pac-12. But you might want to re-think the cargo shorts. next time.”

“Next time?”

Dave instantly looked like he messed up. “Yeah, about that. I wasn’t going to tell you right off, but I guess I spoiled the surprise.”

“What surprise?”

“Well, while you are technically dead, this is not actually the end of mortality for you. You have been assigned to go back to earth and deliver a message to the people.”

I was so relieved, my first thought was “Sweet! I can write a book about it!” My second thought was a more immediate question: “That is great news, Dave, but would it be possible to hurry this up so that I can get home before someone finds my body and tells my wife?”

Dave swiped through a couple of screens on his iPad, and typed something in.

“What are you typing?”

“Oh nothing. Just noting that you might need some opportunities to develop more patience. You seem to be a bit lacking in that department.”

He had me there. Rather than dispute his accusation, I figured I would hurry things up. “So, what is the message that I need to deliver to the people?”

Dave looked me in the eye and said somberly, “Soon there will be an upheaval that will change the course of life for many people you know and love.”

“Why me?” I asked.

“Because you have a blog, with a few readers, and they listen to you. And that Facebook thing. But I would suggest you proofread more, you have a lot of typos.”

“Thanks for the tip, Dave. Now what is the ‘upheaval’ that you are talking about.”

“In the not too distant future, the company that you call Hostess will be brought to its knees, and will cease production of Twinkies, Ding Dongs, and all those tasty snack treats. There will be chaos in the streets. I am charging you with the task of letting the people know, so they can stock up a reserve supply to weather this looming shortage.”

I was stunned. Not only did Dave know about my blog, but had chosen ME to be a voice to the people, to deliver this message. I felt honored, and humble. But wait!

“Hang on a second Dave. The whole Hostess bankruptcy thing already happened a couple years ago. They resolved it, and they are already back on the shelves.”

Dave looked perplexed. He swiped frantically through his iPad like he was looking for his Sunday School lesson.

“What about Ding Dongs?”

“Yes.”

“Zingers?”

“Yep – both yellow and chocolate.”

“Chocodiles?”

“Yes, they are all back. Have been for some time.”

Dave stood up, excused himself, and hurriedly left the office. I sat there thinking that this was not at all what I was expecting. After a few minutes, Dave came back into the room.

“I owe you an apology.”

“For what?” I asked.

“It appears that there has been a bit of a mistake here on our end, and we need to send you back. I apologize on behalf of the entire Transition Department. We would appreciate it if you would make no mention of what has happened here today, because, frankly, it is a little embarrassing.”

I was relieved. “No problem at all, but since I’m up here, is there any other message you want me to share with the world?”

“Not really.”

I prodded, because this could be really cool, and boost my readership. “But what about some kind of warning? The earth is in bad shape. I’m sure there are lot of looming disasters that will be coming as things wind down.”

“Yes,” Dave replied, “While that is true, that warning has been taken care of quite nicely in the Book of Mormon and other scriptures.”

He had a point, but I pressed on, “Surely there must be something that I can take back to really ‘Wow’ everyone, maybe something new, or shocking that might even motivate them to change their lives. Maybe not stockpiling Twinkies, but something else?”

Dave was beginning to look irritated. “As much as I appreciate your selfless offer, I must remind you that we already have a very efficient system in place for that sort of thing. You of all people should know that when there is a message to be delivered to the Church, or the world, it isn’t going to come through some flip-flop wearing dude who fell off a ladder.- no disrespect. We have prophets for that, and frankly, they do a pretty good job.”

He was right. I was out of line, and I knew it. I apologized. He graciously accepted.

“Now let’s get you back to earth.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Nothing. Best of luck, and work on those typos.”

 

Instantly I found myself on my back, looking up at the sky. No high-speed flight back, I guess. Bummer.

I sat up and took inventory: No sign of the scorpion. Other than a small bump on my head and a bit of a headache, I was fine. I got up, dusted myself off, and went in the house to put on some shoes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here

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