Continuing an annual conversation between Your Favorite Columnist and God that stretches back for more than a decade.
God: How things goin’, Sonny?
YFC: Wha? Oh — it’s you. I don’t like being called Sonny.
God: And I don’t like it when you say “God damn it,” so we’re even.
YFC: I’m not sure I want to be speaking to you.
God: What’s got your shorts in a bunch?
YFC: You know — I busted my leg three years ago, had two surgeries and my leg still isn’t right. I’m on a cane for life now. While I was going through all that, I asked for your help.
God: Lemme axe you, Sonny, do you believe in me, really believe?
God: There you go. How do you expect to get help when you don’t believe?
YFC: It’s hard to believe without proof.
God: You kiddin’ me? There are signs of miracles all around you.
YFC: Such as?
God: The Washington Nationals win a World Series, crazy Boris Johnson gets a big majority in the U.K., Bernie Sanders survives a heart attack and Ben Simmons sinks a three-pointer, what more do you want?
YFC: I dunno, something more substantial. By the way, what’s that scent I am smelling?
God: Sun block. I was playing golf earlier.
YFC: That explains the plaid pants. Where do you play?
God: Florida, I have a winter place in The Villages.
YFC: You live in a retirement community?
God: I don’t live there, just the winter, I’m a Snow Bird. You think I’m not entitled? You think God is a part-time gig, like driving Uber?
YFC: Why The Villages?
God: Because JFK is there. He’s living with Marilyn Monroe.
YFC: You’re kidding.
God: And Elvis is next door, living with Geraldine Ferraro.
YFC: Cut it out. As we head into the season of peace, why don’t you give yourself a grade on how well you are doing?
God: Things are calm in Fiji.
YFC: Fiji could be underwater in 20 years.
God: You mean global warming, climate change, whatever they call it. Yep, it’s happening. I hope you don’t own anything in Ocean City, Margate or LBI.
YFC: Are you saying we’ll lose the Jersey shore?
God: Lose it — no. It’s just that the shore will move to the Pine Barrens. If you think that’s bad, don’t ask me about California and Florida — The Villages are inland. Come visit sometime. Bring the girlfriend and the dog.
YFC: Getting back to peace, the Middle East is a tinder box, Afghanistan, Libya, Iraq and Syria are a mess, the Taliban is gaining, there are riots in Hong Kong and even France.
God: You forgot measles, typhoid and ebola. Floods, fires and hurricanes. Give me a break. Do you think I’m God?
YFC: That’s what it says on your T-shirt, “Kiss me — I’m God.”
God: I got it from Amazon. Delivery in two days — amazing, dropped by a drone.
YFC: You paid retail? Don’t you have friends in the biz?
God: And then you’d accuse me of collusion.
YFC: Say, now that you brought that up . . . .
God: I’m not going there, no way. That’s a touchier subject than blackface.
YFC: You talking about governor Northam or Prime Minister Trudeau?
God: It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?
YFC: How about the Mueller Report. Any comment?
God: Zip, nada, nothing. What else you got, Sonny?
YFC: Don’t call me, Sonny. See you next year.
God: Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa and Happy New Year. Next year will be better. Pinky swear.