Reconnecting With Bo in South Dakota

I died yesterday.

It might have been yesterday, a week ago, last year, or 2,000 years ago. It’s hard to tell around here. There are no clocks and calendars.

There is time to think.

Here are a couple of quick observations from beyond.

Everyone gets in the door. There is no heaven or hell; there’s just this place. It’s flat and blah. So, from here on, I will call it South Dakota.

Since all humans get to South Dakota, the usual bundle of jamokes exists. But most of the rough edges have been rounded off as if we all spent time in a rock tumbler before getting on the bus to Sioux Falls. As a result, I haven’t seen any conflicts. Peace is the order of the day.

Mark Twain wrote:

“Of all the delights of this world, man cares most for sexual intercourse. He will go to any length for it – risk fortune, character, reputation, and life itself. And what do you think he has done? He has left it out of his heaven! Prayer takes its place. “

I am happy to report nobody prays in South Dakota, but sex is not on the table or anywhere else. That’s not a big loss once we’ve been through the rock tumbler. Things are much simpler without it.

Other desires are also missing. For example, I have lost my lifelong need for all types of donuts, ice cream, and cookies. The drunks don’t drink, and those addicted to religion have found a cure.

But all South Dakotans feel joy, pain, and other emotions. Most changes in how we feel around here depend on two specific circumstances:

• First, we bump into people we knew before South Dakota. That can cause warm fuzzy feelings, terror, regret, or happiness. You can learn to avoid those who hurt you. Also, you can sit down with them and work things out. South Dakota is more pleasant if you put parts of your past in the rearview mirror. Oh, there are no mirrors around here, but you get what I mean.
• Second, we dearly departed can get an answer to any question you want to ask. The quality of one’s day depends on what kind of questions you ask. Some wonder if their children and grandchildren are happy. It’s best not to know. Please take my advice and don’t ask about climate change. It’s not pretty. On the other hand, I like to know about history. Did you know that Harry and Bess Truman had sex every Friday morning in the Oval Office? Those darn kids.

I do regret dying while taking a shower, so when a sheriff’s deputy did the wellness check, I was not dressed to receive company. Also, I had not cleared my browser history. My sons got too much insight into where I went on the Web.

I died from cardiovascular disease caused by too many donuts, ice cream, and cookies. Go figure.

I ran into Abraham Lincoln the other day (or 200 years ago—who knows). He was walking through the park with John Candy. They make each other laugh. God bless ’em. Damn, I forgot, there is no God. Just a guy named Mike who sweeps up every night.

One of my great pleasures is hanging out with my dog, Bo. In South Dakota, he’s middle-aged, not the farting old hound with bad breath that he became. He chases sticks and swims in the lake with me occasionally. Best of all, no ticks.

That reminds me. Here in South Dakota, we all get to change our age each day. Now, I am 36. Once, I decided to be 17—big mistake.

There’s not much more to say. Relax; there is no heaven or hell; watch as many sunsets as possible and the sunrises if you must; for God’s sake, clear your browser history, try not to die naked, and scratch behind a dog’s ear whenever you see one.