Apparently, a vast collection of the tens of...tens of people who read this blog are positively apoplectic at the thought that I haven't turned the recent demise of Michael Jackson into a yuckfest.
Hmmm...what kind of person do you think I am? There are thousands upon thousands of people who suddenly realize that their lives are not complete without Michael Jackson making a hermit of himself in horribly overpriced housing. How could I possibly make light of their pain?
For some reason, I couldn't help but be reminded of this classic little story, reproduced here as submitted to the June 2009 issue of Reader's Digest by Hank Chawansky:
In surgery for a heart attack, a middle-aged woman has a vision of God by her bedside. "Will I die?" she asks.
God says, "No. You have 30 more years to live."
With 30 years to look forward to, she decides to make the best of it. So since she's in the hospital, she gets breast implants, liposuction, a tummy tuck, hair transplants, and collagen injections in her lips. She looks great!
The day she's discharged, she exits the hospital with a swagger, crosses the street, and is immediately hit by an ambulance and killed.
Up in heaven, she sees God. "You said I had 30 more years to live," she complains.
"That's true," says God.
"So what happened?"
God shrugs, "I didn't recognize you."