So, the “Rapture” didn’t happen, and I’m pretty sure I know why…Oprah wouldn’t have allowed it.
I can just picture her in her planning room with the beautiful lake view, the beautiful Collin Firth portraits, the down-filled floor pillows and all-you-can-eat chocolate covered deep-fried Snickers (now you know my dream-house plans), discussing the whole thing with her crew:
“You know, the Rapture is just going to have to be post-poned,” she says. "My show isn't over yet." She takes a sip of her acai-berry- green-tea-pomegranate-grass clippings soy milk shake. “The way I see it, I’ll be the first to go, so I’ll need to say good-bye and leave my legacy to comfort all those left behind. I couldn’t leave them without direction and some sort of closure.”
“You’ve got some spinach in your teeth,” says one of her camera men. He subtly puts his finger to his own mouth.
Oprah stares at him in silence. Everyone freezes.
“Off with his head!” she demands. “Of course, what will it matter in a few more days anyway?” Then she laughs. Naturally, everyone else does, too. “I’m kidding. Don’t cut off his head. Really.”
Well, clearly, we’re all still here, no Rapture. Because, yes, Oprah’s last show was recorded this week, but it doesn’t actually air until next week! So, I’m thinking I have another week to get my life in order and prepare to meet my Maker—and, although I have to admit she does seem to be the queen of make-over’s, I am still referring to God the Father as “Maker,” not the demi-goddess, Oprah.
So, thanks for a few more days. Here’s to a good week!
