Slicing Heaven

Here’s the synopsis. (You can find out more at

At the end of the first decade of the current century, most Americans were filled with questions about Barack Obama’s fledgling administration, the economy, and foreign policy.

At the Slice of Heaven 24-Hour Pie Shop and Driving Range, somewhere on the edge of the Everglades, though, we tended to set those concerns aside lest they interfere with our search for the ultimate slice of Key lime pie, our hopes that the ringing pay phone would be a call from you, and the fantasy that our missing luggage would finally return from Havana.

And, of course, we never stopped believing that some day every single one of us would experience true perfection in the form of an absolutely authentic golf swing. 

When the going gets tough, the tough get going right to the Slice of Heaven, and you are always welcome to join us. We try to make sure that The Slice of Heaven 24-Hour Pie Shop and Driving Range is a place where all-you-all can leave your troubles behind. 

But let me make it clear, speaking for the staff and the regulars as well as myself. We are not saying you should leave your troubles here. I for one can’t use them. I have enough of my own. 

And I am not saying “pack up your sorrows and give them all to me” because that’s just plain crazy. 

I am merely suggesting that this is a place where you should be able to walk in the door and instantly forget all about last night’s horrible dream that erupted into a full-body spasm. We are not always successful at creating that level of therapeutic ambiance, but that’s our goal. 

There’s always plenty of pie and conversation—and all the golf balls you can hit for ten bucks. The pay phone works, the karaoke machine is warmed up at the Swing Barn next door, and we are all willing and ready to listen to your latest poem, try out your best pie recipe, or applaud your swing. 

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