Curiouser and curiouser!

My day was so odd I thought I should mention it.  I was changing the oil in the station wagon today, when an Elvis impersonator with studded jeans and a Batman shirt rode up to me on his bike.

"Is that yours?" he said pointing to the wagon.
"Yes," I replied.
"They're awesome.  You know you have to replace the heater core on these things before they explode inside."
"Yeah," I said pointing to a box on the cement,"  I've actually got one right here."

Some more car talk ensued, and then:

"I'm an Elvis impersonator," he informed.
"So I gather," I said smiling.
"What do you do?"
"Me?  I'm a pastor."
"A man of God!  Alright!  I go to [forgot name] Church nearby.  I'm good friends with the pastors there."
"That's great," I affirmed, glad there was room in the church for one more Elvis.

He pulled out his cellphone and showed me a picture a friend painted.  "This is what she saw as she was astral projecting.  Do you know who it is?"
"Uh, looks like God I guess," I said.  (By the way, if this vision is correct, God is Santa Claus' hippie cousin.)
"Yeah man, it does.  It's the end times, the last battle.  Angels of light vs. angels of darkness. You know about the nephilim, right?  The angels slept with people and made them.  They build the pyramids. But I guess you're an angel of light man.  That's great."

Relieved, I could only reply, "I hope so."

"Me, I'm an old soul.  I seen a lot.  The Antichrist, he's got blue eyes bro."  I suspect that he was referring to himself as an old soul metaphysically, not metaphorically, but his line about the blue eyes really caught me.  When he said it, I felt like I knew more about apocalyptic writing, about the Revelation of John, than a lot of the commentaries I've read.  No, I don't think we're in the end times in quite the same way he does, but these things he said mean something to him.  The blue eyes mean something to him; they say something about the things he's had to battle in life to hold on to his dignity.

"Well, I gotta go, but I'll come by and show you my station wagon, man.  When are you around?"
"'Varies," I said, unsure of how specific I should detail my comings and goings.  "But if you see me say hi."

He was an affectingly friendly fellow, charismatic and warm.  He told me that he was "pretty outside the box," but it didn't really matter.  Maybe things are stranger in California, but at least it keeps you from believing you've got it all figured out.  Today, while working on my station wagon, Elvis and I discussed the end times.