Today’s Special (Blog #994)

Tonight I’m blogging on my phone–old school, one letter at a time–because yesterday I installed (my friend Justin installed) a new battery in my laptop, and part of the installation process is to completely drain the battery and leave the device turned off for five hours. Well, the leaving it turned off part is happening now. And whereas I’d probably be okay to turn it back on to blog (I’m not sure exactly when it died because I left it running while I was gone this afternoon), I’d rather be safe than sorry. The way I see it, technologically “roughing it” now and then makes me all the more grateful for the days when I don’t have to.

Which, to be clear, is most of them.

This afternoon I did some thrift shopping for craft projects then ended up at my aunt’s house. Together we thumbed through some of her craft odds and ends, did a few handyman jobs, and ate a late lunch for me and an early dinner for her. Anyway, while we were at her kitchen table I got absolutely captivated by some of her holiday decorations– two small vases full of red glass rocks.

It’s weird how your memory works. As I was taking the above picture, I realized the vases and red rocks reminded me of a television show I used to watch as a child–Today’s Special, about a department store mannequin (Jeff) who comes to life after all the customers leave. Specifically, I recalled an episode–my favorite–in which Jeff and his friends get trapped in a dungeon and have to retrieve a magic potion (a red liquid in a glass jar) from a window ledge in order to escape.

Well, thank God for the miracle of the internet because earlier tonight I was able to find that specific episode–called “Adventure”–on YouTube and rewatch it for the first time in over thirty years. What a trip! And whereas I’d forgotten a few details, like the fact that there’s a mouse (a puppet) in the department store who always speaks in rhyme, most of the time I was like, Oh yeah, I remember that!

And I was spot-on about the red liquid in the glass jar.

The basic plot of the episode is that the magician who first turned Jeff into “a real boy” has been cursed and shrinks every time he sneezes. Enter the need for the magic potion in the dungeon (in a land far, far away). How are Jeff and his friends going to get there? They have a genie in a bottle, of course (you gotta rub him the right way). Anyway, the genie gets the rescue crew to the remote land, but, like all good heroes, they’re faced with a few challenges. They have to touch a giant lizard on its nose. They have to find the potion. Then in order to reach the potion from its perch, they have to work together.

As a child I remember being so scared of some of the details–the lizard, the dungeon, the shrinking magician. I thought, What if they don’t make it? As an adult, it was no big deal, no fear. Granted, I’d seen the show before and knew it ended well, but perhaps that’s the point. As we get older, wiser, we should realize that there are fewer and fewer things to be scared of. Because we’ve figured out it’s all going to be okay.

From a mythological standpoint, the episode offers a lot of symbolism. For example, the heroes have to touch (slay) a lizard (dragon). This means–sooner or later–we all have to face our fears. This sucks, but the good news is, it’s never as difficult as you think it is. When Jeff touches the lizard, it disappears. That’s the deal–you face your fears, they vanish. Then you think, What was all the fuss about?

Next our heroes get stuck in the dungeon, which represents our shadow or unconscious and means we’ve gotta go underground to find the good stuff, to become a whole person. Then there’s the whole working as a team to get the potion part, which means none of us get through life alone. We’re all in this together.

So don’t be afraid to ask for help.

Both as a child and anytime I’ve thought of Today’s Special since, I’ve assumed the show title was an incomplete sentence. I saw special as a noun. Like, today’s special is roast beef on rye, today’s special is chicken salad and potato chips. Now that I’m learning to appreciate the gift of life (and high speed technology) more and more, I think of the show title as a complete sentence. I see special as an adjective. Like, today IS special.

So often we think of our days as ordinary. We go thrift shopping. We see our family. We take these miracles for granted. And yet one day, like a laptop battery, we die. All of a sudden, what we wouldn’t give for one more ordinary day. One more special day.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"

You've got to believe that things can turn around, that even difficult situations--perhaps only difficult situations--can turn you into something magnificent.

"

The Connected Universe (Blog #470)

It’s just before noon, and I’m still in Houston. I woke up a couple hours ago, ate a healthy breakfast, then read for a while. It’s been a leisurely morning. A perfect day so far. Now I’m blogging–obviously. I need to finish this and get on the road to Dallas. I have dinner plans. My current soundtrack is Fleetwood Mac’s “Monday Morning.” (I realize it’s Friday.) I’m struck by the lyrics that say, “I can’t go on believing this way … [I’ve] got to get some peace in my mind.”

Last night on our way to dance, my friend Sydnie and I listened to a CD of a spiritual guru of sorts (for fun, believe it or not). Anyway, the teacher said that every problem is automatically paired with a solution. It’s simply the way life works. Answers come built-in. There are no “just problems.” When we arrived at the dance, Sydnie said, “Those spaces in front are free, but you have to pay for the others.” At that moment, someone took the open spot Sydnie had her eye on. (A problem.) “Oh, poop,” Sydnie said. But then we drove closer to the door of the dance, and there was a single, solitary empty spot front-and-center. (An answer.) It was that fast.

You can say it was a coincidence–the way everything happened–but I think it was all connected.

The book I’ve been reading this morning is one I picked up last night–Myth and Body by Stanley Keleman (with my man Joseph Campbell). The book is short, and I’m only about a third of the way in, but it’s honestly one of the most profound things I’ve read in a while and helps make sense of and contextualize a lot of other material I’ve read over the years. In short, it says that our myths refer to our physical bodies (he compares the serpent in the garden to our spinal cords). In other words, our myths and dreams teach us and draw us into our interior, our personal cosmos or universes. I immediately thought of how deep and wide and wonderful the night sky is. I’m coming to believe that each one of us is THAT large and THAT wonderful as well.

Earlier I set down my book and stepped into the back yard. There’s a lavender bush (or something purple) out there, and I wanted to smell it. I’d just finished reading that parts of our bodies, like our necks and shoulders, can be rigid because we’ve literally “embodied” an attitude of fear or hesitation. And get this shit–the first thing I noticed when I opened the back door was a power tool that said, “Rigid.” You can say it was a coincidence, but I think it was all connected. Then as I smelled the purple plant, I saw a lizard crawl onto a flower-pot and puff out an orange-colored throat bubble (his dewlap). It was so gorgeous that I squealed. Then it scurried off.

It was this brief moment of beauty, and I was the only one who saw it.

Now I need to take a shower, probably shave my face. This last year I’ve been thinking about and talking about how “surely” there’s an answer to my problems, how “surely” my body is a mystery that has things to teach me, and I’m beginning to really believe it. There’s proof all around and in me. I wonder what it would be like to truly “embody” these ideas, and I just know it’s got to happen. Having lived for decades in fear and a state of being rigid, I know that I can’t go on believing this way. I’ve got to get some peace in my mind, in my body. And perhaps there’s not a difference between my mind and my body, even between this body and your body, between our bodies and the entire universe. I think it’s all connected.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Sickness and health come and go, just like everything else. It's just the way life is."