A Christmas or two--or three--ago, my brother Patrick was trying to get rid of some things that were cramping his already cramped condo.
He now lives in a much more spacious home, but at the time this was a fairly regular practice for him. I remember on one occasion he offered up a bottle of Windex. I would have been a taker, but I had traveled to his place via train and we were going to spend the next day walking around in the city, and I didn't really have the spare room in my backpack.
I tell you all these details so that you don't think the reason I didn't take the Windex was because I would be embarrassed to carry a bottle of Windex around Chicago all day. Because I would not be embarrassed. Just inconveniently weighed down.
Well on this Christmas some years back, Patrick was going through his usual show-and-tell of items (items that he had carted nine hours by car. We're talking desperate to get rid of things, friends), seeing what people could take off his hands. During his presentation he came to a popular book by the preacher Don Piper.
"Does anyone want '90 Minutes in Heaven'?" he asked, casually.
Dad immediately shared his thoughts on the matter: "I'd like more time than that!"