As an insolent child I was told many times I was going to hell by my grandma and several aunts. The thought never bothered me until I hit 50 and friends started dropping like overripe apricots, splat included. That's when 2 burning questions started swirling around my brain housing unit.
How would I go and would the elevator be pointed up or down? Would I buy the farm from a garbage truck backing up over me or a massive coronary in mid stroke on top a whore in Pahrump?
This sudden anxiety triggered some awful nightmares, one I'll share here.
I'm not sure how the big moment happens in this creepshow, I'm just suddenly traveling down the dark tunnel and end up in a dimly lit room with spooky Peter Lorrie behind a reception desk.
"Vell hello, we've been waiting for you" he whispers in his eerie voice.
I'm led down a long hallway where Peter opens a large door to a room where to my horror Kathy Lee Gifford is singing. I beg and plead No!!! And grab onto the door frame like a cat about to be bathed.
Peter laughs and snickers "Just fuckin with ya".
On we walk for what seems like an eternity when Peter stops abruptly and tells me to brace myself, that I now stand at the Gates Of Hell. Eternal damnation cometh.
I close my eyes in shear terror as the door squeaks open. My mind races as I try to imagine what can be worse then stuck in a room with a singing Kathy Lee.
As I open my eyes I realized I'm totally screwed. A big screen TV playing Blackhawks hockey 24/7. All around the walls are Blackhawk memorabilia. Tony O mask, Stan Makita and Bobby Hull sticks, Autographed Patsy Kane Jersey. The most horrible of sights.
The worst part is sitting in the corner with his big gap toothed smile is Keith Magnuson waving hello and letting me know he's my new roomie.
I look for a window to dive out or a gas can to torch the place when the dream abruptly ends and I wake up.