We’ve had our own revelation on our personal road to Damascus. Our eyes have been opened and our spirit freed to experience the wondrous truth waiting for us all at the end of the line. We’ve been entrusted with a mission, a purpose, so to speak, to spread the word so that each man, woman and child on this great blue marble called Earth knows the score and is perfectly clear as to what is expected from each and every one of us.
Only concert fans go to Heaven.
It’s really quite obvious once you think about it. God’s a music fan. After all, God created music, and if you think St. Peter is going to let you slip through those pearly turnstiles with nary a mention of Janis Ian’s latest set list or who’s opening for Little Feat and Goo Goo Dolls, you’ll be sadly mistaken. For you see, good old St. Pete isn’t just some ticket-taker at the entrance to life everlasting. He’s going to quiz you about Beenie Man, Average White Band and Willie Nelson, and you better have the right answers, for the official greeter to the great beyond has no patience for poseurs and fakers. Besides, what do you think Purgatory is for, anyway?
The bottom line is this: If you want to get to Rock N Roll Heaven, you gotta see a few bands. Doesn’t matter if it’s Reggae Cowboys, Soul Brains or The Burning Brides, you’ve got to show that you appreciate God’s gift of music in the here and now so that you can pass into the hereafter.
And what a hereafter it is! A place where John Lennon does three shows nightly with George Harrison. Where John Lee Hooker regularly gets down with Janis, and Frank dishes out the ultimate cool with Sammy and Dino. Elvis, Tupac, Kurt and Aaliyah, they’re all waiting for you past that final exit. They’re the ultimate headline acts, and they expect nothing less than the ultimate audience. Think you’ll measure up?
So, the next time you’re thinking about passing on Angelique Kidjo. When you’re too lazy to get out of the chair and go down to your local ticket outlet for tickets for Lonnie Brooks and Natalie Cole. When you’re too doggoned lethargic to even click on the mouse to buy tickets for Tower Of Power, remember this: Heaven is filled with the greatest stars that ever lived, and the best seats are reserved for the best fans. And if you’re thinking you can skate right through with a ticket for the Heaven’s version of cheap lawn seats, well, all we can say is at least it’s a dry heat.
And for those of you who have already proven your concert worthiness, we have this one last bit of advice: If you ever catch the late show in Heaven, and you see a young man on stage dressed in a psychedelic shirt, sporting a red sweatband around his head and wailing on the guitar as he cranks out the sweetest licks in all eternity, don’t embarrass yourself by approaching him after the show and asking for an autograph.
For you see, that’s just God. Sometimes he thinks he’s Jimi Hendrix.