In Between Like the Dickens

I believe it may have been Aunt Cynthia who used to say, "Full many a glorious morning have I seen flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye," and then she would say something about kissing the meadows--all very good stuff--but then things would take a nasty turn and end with the sun getting the hell out of Dodge.

If you follow these little musings of mine from time to time, you will be aware that I insist on living "Happy, joyous and free" but, damn, if it doesn't sometimes seem that the odds are against it with all this impermanence and whatnot. Be happy if you can for as long as you can is my motto. Sooner or later, right in the middle of telling your best story to a rapt audience, you're going to glance down and see that you've gotten your elbow in the butter.

Take this morning, for instance. It had gotten off to an alright start and I had nothing in my heart but bluebirds and happy endings for everyone. Still, though immersed in sunshine, I was all in between. I was not feeling mettlesome, like a charger on hearing the trumpet call. Neither was the heart bowed down by weight of woe. I was feeling not too hot but not too cold, and I'll tell you why. I was faced with a weighty decision. I needed to choose one and let the other go--and go forever. You see the predicament? I didn't know which way to turn.

If you are not a member of the inner circle, then perhaps I can sum the thing up quickly without losing the long-time readership. Pay very close attention because I shall stick to the salient points and avoid the color commentary.

Ms. Wonder and I are launching an online travel magazine. I know! Me too! It seems that for some reason, your guess is as good as mine, we have done magazine work for 15 years. I write the articles and she makes the photos to illustrate my stories. And so we've decided to take the next step and launch our own digital travel magazine.

It will be called Carolina Roads and it will focus on road trips throughout the Carolinas and neighboring states. I think it will be pippin and so do most of my advisors. "So," you may be asking, "if it's so topping, what's the struggle about?" I'll tell you that too.

I don't know if you've had the experience of getting caught bending and having to listen to a character witness who takes your inventory and points out all your defects. Well, you remember Princess Amy, of course, that little almond-shaped cluster of brain cells that bears a striking resemblance to the Red Queen. She's been taking inventory recently and thinks as much of me publishing a magazine as Moses thought of the Children of Israel when he walked in on them worshipping the golden calf.

Her invectives leave me in a heap. Even my sleep is troubled. In last evening's dream installment, I was in a workshop at the local community college and my workshop buddy was T. Chuffler, also referenced in that link in the above paragraph.

The instructor in the dream was about to review our work when I noticed that Chuffler was not among those present and being present was a requirement for the review. When I realized that the classroom was completely empty of Chufflers, I panicked and began running around, waving arms and dancing from one leg to another. I seemed to need nothing more in life than one standard-issue Tiger Chuffler.

My search took me to her house. Instead of going to her front door the way I would if I were awake, I went instead to the cellar door and climbed up to look in the window. Dreams! I know! Do you suppose I saw Tiger sitting at her kitchen table? Of course not. I saw instead the Wild Bill and he gave me a look that left me rooted to the spot because of this patented look of his, to quote Shakespeare, if it was Shakespeare and not the Duke of Orange or the Earl of Bacon, this look "made my knotted and combined locks to part and each particular hair to stand on end like quills upon the fretful porcupine."

A thing I've always noticed is that it's difficult to know exactly what to say when the house owner catches you peaking in a window. I was searching for the right words when I noticed a decanter of tissue restorer in the Wild One's hands and motioned to say that I'd like a cup. He opened the window.

"Help yourself," he said.

"Thank you," I said.

"Although I'm surprised that even you have temerity enough to drink my wine after ignoring me for so long."

"Sorry," I said. "I was away longer than intended."

"What have you been doing with your time?" he asked.

"Well, for one thing, I'm in a workshop with your princess and a solid cosh behind the ears is coming from our instructor if we don't make it back immediately."

"Your photography instructor?"

"That's the one."

"He's about to cosh you?"

"To the core," I said.

"Ahhh," he said, brightening a goodish amount, "Fine man. Good stuff in those Durham Tech instructors."

"Is this my old pal talking," I demanded. "Is this the man who has signed a blood pact to come to my aid whenever I call? Because if it is that man, then he should know that I am sore in spirit and calling for help like the dickens."

He softened perceptibly.

"Tell Bill all about it."

"It's a long story," I said.

"Well, for Heaven's sake, don't go into it now, just give me the salient points."

"I'm in a heap," I said.

"I'll need just a little bit more detail."

So I explained the entire sad story. The lack of moral support as a child; the feeling of emptiness that requires constant staunching; and now the ordeal of taking a photography class with a group of total strangers the day after being deflated like a two-week-old mylar, birthday balloon. He listened attentively and I was relieved to read compassion in his gaze.

"There is a way out of your predicament," he said.

"That's your opinion is it?" I asked.

"The solution is very simple, really."

"And you're going to add, 'simple, but not easy'."

"If it were easy, it wouldn't strengthen the character," he said.

"To hell, with strengthening the c," I said, "I just want out of this with enough of the Genome to be getting on with. What's the solution?"

"Can't tell you," he said, "you'll screw it up."

"I won't."

"Yes, you will. I know these things. Your only option is to keep plodding forward and cross any bridges you come to without looking down."

"How do I know it won't end in a spoiler."

"You don't."

"I know what this is," I said. "I've been this way before.  You're suggesting that I abandon myself to the universe. Live life on life's terms and all that rot. Well, I'm tired of abandoning and whatnot. I want action. I want miracles or magic--I don't care which--and the method has to provide some assurance. Where's the assurance?"

I must have been speaking very, very loudly because when I stopped it seemed particularly quiet and Wild Bill was all smiling.

"You must have me confused with that other higher power," he said.

I understood all. The message was the same one the Amazon mother gave her daughter when handing her the shield and spear and pushing her into the fray. Nevertheless, the temperature near the feet remained coolish and I continued hesitant. I'm not saying that I didn't approve of the general principle, but I wasn't at all keen to act on it.

"Your lack of resolve is understandable. Between acting on a dreadful thing and the first motion..."

I raised a hand. "Not Shakespeare, please, I can't take anymore Shakespeare."

"That state of man, like to a little kingdom, suffers then the nature of an insurrection."

"Oh, all right!" I said. "Hand me the damned spear."

He gave me an inquisitive eye and I said no more, thinking, and I'm sure I was correct in this, that I had said enough. Life comes fast and hard and we must be ready for anything and all that rot. 

I knew of course, as I'm sure you too know, that we were not speaking of a photography class. Not really. What we were actually discussing was the online travel magazine that Ms. Wonder and I are publishing.

I apologized for the interruption and thanked him for his support, although the heart really wasn't in it. Still, I had my marching orders. It was a plan and it was a plan that I could follow. Is there any more to life than that?