A Place Reserved in Heaven

Like a lot of people, I firmly believe that in the final analysis of life how we act here on earth counts for something. It’s up to us to earn a place in the next life with “the Man upstairs.” But I also think there are a certain number of people who should, to borrow an expression from the sports world, have an automatic birth into Heaven.

The inventor of the T.V. remote control is one of the first people who I think deserves an automatic birth into Heaven. Let’s face it; if there was a Lazy Man’s Hall of Fame you know there’d be a life-size statue of that guy welcoming all visitors into the building. Shoot, some people, mostly men who become power wielding tyrants when a remote is placed in their domineering little hands, would even pay homage to the statue, laying flowers at its feet and mumbling some whiny chant for hours on end.

Right along side of the inventor of the remote control there should be an automatic birth to Heaven for the creator of the mute button on that remote. When channel surfing only provides a smorgasbord of annoying commercials to choose from, we have the option of just muting the “idiot box,” as my momma used to call it. The ability to “stick it” to those irritating advertisements by muting them is an intoxicating power to be sure.

At the very least, the person who invented the mute button should be sainted. Ah yes, Saint Mute. Hey, anyone raising teenagers would frequently pray to him, requesting a blessing of silence.

One last person that I’d nominate for an automatic birth to Heaven is the kind lady at the Hillbilly Moccasins store in downtown Branson, Missouri. When I was 53 cents short of the cost for resoling my boots (yes, on occasion I’ve been known to wear cowboy boots) she let me leave the store with my footwear, trusting me to bring her that 53 cents the following day.

Now, I’m an honest person. I would’ve never stiffed her, but she didn’t know that. Yet, unlike a lot of us, her outlook on humanity hasn't become cynical. She was willing to take the risk that I’d keep my word and bring the money later.

To say this was a surprise and very inspiring would be an understatement. It renewed in me a little faith that not all of humanity has become hard hearted, that there are still a few people in the world who are kind and decent folks, willing to give others the chance to show that they too are of the same caliber.

Unfortunately, this type of experience is becoming a rare thing. Heck, not long ago, before I started using a debit card, I wrote a check for fuel at a gas station and darn near had to give my eldest son as collateral for them to accept it, and I was a regular customer who’d never bounced a check on them!

So, to the lady at Hillbilly Moccasins and others like her, I salute you. And when your automatic birth to Heaven comes, put in a good word for me with the Man in charge, won’t you?