Inspiration, Aisle Six

I was on Earth in the Mall of America with Marley and Suzanne the other day, and after a hour of listening to Suzanne go on about all the new clothing lines and Marley nodding her head, we wandered into the FYE store at my behest. A U2 song came on, and Marley tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to guy over by the wall. "It's weird, the song is making that guy over there get really annoyed, but not in an angry way. It's like he's sad for himself."

My angel's instinct kicked in, and I wandered over in his direction, and eventually said, "Love this song."

The guy said, "Yeah, it's a great song." She was right, he sounded defeated when he said it.

"Doesn't sound like you like it."

"Oh, I like it, but it's like, you know, I just, I know this dude at work who's a big Alarm fan."

"I didn't know there were any."

"Oh yeah, this guy is like all, 'They're so much better than U2, U2 is so commercial. Their fans are so phony, they only like them because they're popular.'"

I said, "So?"

"Nothing, it's just like, yeah, they're really popular, so, like..."

"You're pissed because the guy basically called you a phony to your face."

"Yeah."

"And now, that's what you think of when you hear this, instead of, 'This is a great song.'"

He had a look on his face like he hadn't quite pieced that together before I said it, "Right! Yeah, right."

"Well, who the fuck is he? I guy who loves The Alarm? He knows their success is nothing compared to U2's, it's like he's so insecure about his own taste that he has to lash out for no reason. Sounds pretty pathetic. I mean, how sad is his life that he needs to feel superior by inventing a bullshit superiority over a fucking rock band?"

"I guess."

"I mean, do you like them because they're popular?" I asked.

"No, I've loved them ever since I was six." He looked about thirty, give or take, so that's about twenty-five years of devoted fandom. "I had an older bother who got me into them. We used to fight all the time, listening to U2 was the first cool thing we did together."

"So what the fuck do you care? He doesn't know you. And he only sounds more ignorant by spouting that kind of bullshit." And I started to wander off.

He nodded his head and said, "Yeah. Take it easy." I wandered back to Marley and Suzanne, and asked Marley, "So how's he feel?"

She smiled and said, "Better." Suzanne didn't say a word, she just motioned for us to leave the store. When we were out of the guy's view, her face lit up and she yelled, "HIGH FIVE!"

It's nice to have a job where you can get a high five for doing good work. God knows I didn't when I was alive in that damn office. Inspiring in music store, now that's living.

Angels Who Hate Halos

There's an interesting concept in heaven that I like to call Parallelism. Not the literary device, I'm done with all that crap, school is completely done now. This is like live, in person simulcasts. See, I've been going to bomber games down on Earth all year. I get tickets the old fashioned way; buying them for real. I wasn't sure if I should do that at first, I don't have a paying Earthbound job, so money has to be created. Technically I guess that makes it counterfeit, but if I create it to be real, it's just as real as any currency. My only worry is the capital I introduce into the system, which they say lowers the value of the dollar, but I think a multi-billion dollar budget can survive the price I shell out for tickets to the fucking ballgame. The fuck am I, an economist?

So, I like to engage in the real deal, but it's different in October, when the games are sold out. I can't in good conscious take a seat away from a living human who needs it, so what I do instead is just have it replicated. I don't recreate the whole thing, I don't have enough power to do that, it's more like a live action simulcast: it happens down there, I happens up here. Maybe there's a slight delay, but that's what happens in tv too. So imagine it's like watching the game on a tv so large, it's all life size, and you're sitting in it, kind of like what the hi def tv ads say watching their sets is like, only for real.

Sashial and I went to the games in California this week, ironic team name and all. It was her idea, I personally find it sickening to wade through enemy territory. But she loves it, it must be her antagonistic nature. And she's unapologetic in her affiliation; I prefer to look neutral, but she comes in her full bomber regalia. Usually, nobody says anything, especially after they see what she looks like, and if course, god help them if they do. When I asked her why she would even bother with the live experience on the opposition's home territory, she just told me to wait. After the game on Tuesday, she said, "See? There's nothing like getting fourty thousand jerks to shut up."

"I thought you like mankind."

She said, "I do, sweetheart. But right now, they're the enemy. They're jerks, and I love each and every one of them."

Fair enough. Sashial continues to surprise me. I thought she'd be furious after the loss the other night. But when the game ended, she just smiled and nodded her head.

"You're not pissed?" I asked.

"Not really. We're going back to New York, where we can celebrate for real instead of tens of thousands of simulated whiners."

So wise, so wise.

Weather The Changes

I wonder sometimes if we're missing out on the human experience in Heaven. I was thinking about this the other day when I was on assignment down on earth. The weather was lousy for several days straight. You know, there are certain things about the human existence that make you realize there's a problem with the concept of destiny, the weather, being one of them. People often don't like the idea of having a predetermined fate, because it means, on a certain level, they're not in control. But there's your future, on tv, right there on the weather report. The man in the suit without the meteorology degree is telling you what your day will be like on Saturday, quite possibly dictating your likelihood of having a good day or not. He's telling you rain. Damn. Who the fuck is he to have that power? Well, not absolute power, you can have a good day on the rain. It's like with the dreams; there are no fates, only paths.

No such problems up in Heaven, perfect weather whenever I damn well feel like it. Is it making us soft? Do we need to hold on to the belabored conveniences to keep identifying with our assignment subjects? But what are we really losing? That which makes us human? Our irritability? Maybe we should lose that, or we have to. We're not human, we're angels. This is probably why we can deal with the animosity that plagues our subjects and why we can help them instead of giving in to it.

Or maybe the bottom line is, I've earned good weather. I'm fuckin dead.

Overtime Under Heaven

It's been a little while since I've posted, so here's whats been going on. Sashial, Lira, Marley and I have been working some real overtime lately. I don't know what it is, I think maybe it's the time of year. Summer is ending, the temperature is cooling and the daylight is getting shorter. Since autumn is my favorite time of year, this was always uplifting for me, but lots of people find the darkness and chill depressing. It's probably the same across the country, I can't even tell, I haven't seen Tony or Suzanne for a couple of weeks and Roy and Patty I don't even know about. All this disparity can be pretty grueling. Thank god for the heaven restaurants. The four of us have been getting together for late dinners, so much so that we've been branching out from the Upper East Side diner we usually go to, even though Lira loves the vanilla martinis there. Even though we don't get intoxicated, she says the mix of the sharp bit of the alcohol and the sweet vanilla appeals to her. My theory is the taste describes Lira herself, though I doubt she'd admit that. Sashial just says give her a beer at the stadium any day, I guess the drink of choice for fans who shout from the cheap seats is what speaks to her.

There was one person in particular who was pushing my limits. SO negative. Faced the slightest shred of adversity with such a sense of horror, like the slightest thing was so tragic. Trying to constantly put a positive spin on someone who brings you down at EVERY turn is really draining. I'm starting to wonder if I can help this person. Are there people you just can't reach? It hasn't happened to me so far, but you never know. Until then, I just didn't think it was possible, now I'm not so sure. Sounds like this person is pushing me to despair. Not good for an angel, but at least I have my support system. Marley reminded me, "Don't forget you're still human. Maybe not in body or spirit, but in mind. It's inspiration, not magic. But you have an underlying belief that you can help anyone. I can tell. Just remember that."

I do forget sometimes. The reminder always helps.

WOULD SOMEONE FUCKING HELP ME?!

I can always lean on Marley. Sashial and Lira are great teammates to have. And Tony and Suzanne will always have my back. It's refreshing, and maybe this is just another aspect of heaven but nobody's let me down. It's different, because I'm sure not used to it. People abandoning you is one thing, but when someone's indifference makes your life more difficult, it's more fuel to the fire of misanthropy. When people who are supposed to help you don't, is it worse than those who treat you maliciously? I think maybe. You don't expect anything from your enemies. When an ally won't give you the help you're meant to have, it's like you've been teased and tormented by having your deserved complacency given then taken away. There's been many a night at work when I've wished eternal hell on people I still think the wold of. On Earth, I mean. In Heaven that never happens.

Then again, these are not people I'm working with, they're angels. Shouldn't angels be better coworkers? They're angels for fuck's sake. Maybe it's the generosity that comes with the job; apathy is essentially a manifestation of selfishness. Then again, don't we all get selfish at times? Maybe more when it's 10pm, you're into your thirteenth hour of work and the last think you want to do is even think about anything that's going to give you more fucking work, even if it won't be that night. Maybe that's the core to the angel's generosity: we're spirits. Not alive, we don't get tired, and we're not given to petty fucking self-interest and free to think about other people. I'd be more than happy to think about myself, but hey, someone needs to be helped, and that's why I'm here. Stop shirking you fucking slacker.

Hope Springs Internal

Loss can be an unusual thing. Can you feel loss for something you never had? Say you were really hoping for a new job, and you were dying to work at, I don't know, say, Google. And you applied, but didn't get the job there. Then one day, you hear Google is closing its local office and shifting its entire work force to California. You'd feel pretty bummed, right? Why? You never worked there. What are you losing?

What you're losing is hope. As long as they were there, you always had a hope that things would change, that a situation would arrive where you'd get your chance. You know, when I was alive, and very unhappy, I used to say that I was a lot happier when I deluded myself into believing I could get what I want. That ended when I finally met Shannon, but we all know how that worked out. But hope is a very positive emotion and your positive outlook is just as much a thing to grieve for as anything else.

As an angel I try to explain this to people all the time, sometimes it helps and sometimes it doesn't. But at the very least, if it can't alleviate sadness it can help with the anger and resentment that can come with it. I should know, that's all I used to feel. Wish someone he told me that back in the day.