In “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” aliens visit us to keep us from killing ourselves.  I would love to see that day come during my lifetime. But I guess it's okay if it comes before the earth is destroyed.

In my prayers, I pray that all those who value death more than life, will see the value of life over death. Since I don't believe this will happen any day soon, I will leave it up to my friends, the aliens.

When I am lying on my back in my above-ground pool, staring through the universe, it is easy for me to believe there is a creator. When I stare into space and realize the universe never stops, I know that this just cannot be there by accident. At the end of infinity is either God or a very sophisticated alien. Sometimes I believe that an alien graduate student has created this world and/or this universe, as a project — or even as a plaything. 



I am not worried about the aliens. When they arrive, surely they will be intelligent, omniscient, and good. 

My dad, who has been gone for 15 years, is sitting next to the creator, or creator alien, somewhere in the ether above. 
I believe the creator lets my dad intervene in my life on certain occasions.  Maybe there is a schedule based on how my dad lived.  I usually do know when he is intervening. I always thank him – and the creator – in the same breath.

Sometimes I believe that I am specially appointed to help people. I almost always smile. I have almost no inhibitions. I enjoy talking to people around me, and I don't like to gossip or talk bad about anybody.

When I do find myself saying something unpleasant, say, about my wife, I imagine her parents looking down at me. I immediately self-correct, understanding how much they love their daughter.  Then I remember that I love her, too.

What do I expect to see in the world to come?  Thanks to my genealogy hobby, I expect to meet all my relatives, going back many generations.  I expect to see what is going on back at earth.  I expect to understand infinity and the creator, and I expect to discover just how really special – or really normal – I am.

Mr. Ebsen may be contacted at robertebsen@hotmail.com