Uma Maya's Gift

I woke from a dream featuring Uma, my beloved, sweet kitty, lounging serenely in her favorite hideaway – the blue box (with the half-moon doorway) in Ms. Wonder's upstairs sanctuary. 

The dream wasn't a narrative, but an image: Uma gazing at me with a peaceful serenity that seemed to whisper, "Don't worry, food guy. I'm with you, always." It felt less like a dream and more like a visitation.

Uma & Me

Awakened by the haunting melody of "Total Eclipse of the Heart," I was initially puzzled. The dream, though tinged with a touch of melancholy, didn't feel entirely eclipsed. This disconnect between the song and my emotions left me unsettled.

Are you as frustrated as I am by these mixed messages the Universe seems to favor?

The early hour felt less like the dawn of a new day and more like the middle of the night. I debated whether to rise, the prospect of coffee battling with the allure of a warm, comfy bed. Finally, I rose, stepped into the kitchen, and pulled back the curtains, revealing a dark backyard illuminated by a single, lonely solar light.

I walked through the lanai and approached the light, gently nudging it with my toe to realign it. The instant I touched it, it extinguished. "What the hell, Louis?" I muttered to myself.

Despite the odd encounter, I brewed coffee and carried it back to the lanai, where I began recording bird calls on the Merlin app. I decided to embrace the unexpected gift of this early morning and savor the arrival of dawn.

Ms. Wonder, I knew, would be awake by now, brimming with ideas for a fulfilling day. But then I remembered she and her friend were on Oak Island, climbing the lighthouse. 

You surely remember Charlie, the terrier with an expression that sometimes says, 'I love you because you're amazing,' and at other times, looks like a Baptist minister rebuking sin in the congregation. I mention it here because Charlie's housekeeper is the friend climbing the lighthouse with Wonder.

Their penchant for these adventurous outings puzzled me – I mean, why climb lighthouses? Is it just because lighthouses exist? I'll ask Dr. Coast about it; she probably studied these aberrations in graduate school.

Determined to shake off the "eclipse of the heart" and elevate my mood, I formulated a plan: to simply enjoy the morning doing nothing in particular. The idea of journaling had some appeal to me. I envisioned myself writing to you, dear reader, and that thought brought a smile to my face.

By half past nine, it was clear that journaling would be nothing but a series of fits and starts. Not what I was hoping for. Time to initiate Plan B: I fired up Wind Horse and crossed the Memorial Bridge, and turned onto Castle Street.

Feathery clouds had sneaked into the sky while I wasn't looking, and a brisk wind caused dry leaves to crab-walk across the street. I drove slowly, half-expecting to glimpse Piglet soaring overhead. Don't scoff; stranger things have happened on Castle Street. 

At the coffee shop, I selected a cozy window seat, not too near the door, and savored a cup of Jah's Mercy. The music was upbeat, the atmosphere relaxed, and the familiar sense that all's right with the world settled over me.

As I sipped my coffee, I remembered the dream and recalled the most important life lesson that Uma taught me:

"Every day is a gift and a reason to celebrate life."

A smile spread across my face. The "eclipse of the heart" began to lift. In this moment, in this place, I realized that life is indeed the most precious gift and a reason for continuous celebration.

Thank you, Uma! I miss you, baby girl. See you on the Rainbow Bridge.

Waiting for RJ Decker

“Did you see the news?” I asked, sliding into my usual seat at Egret Café this morning.

“About the TV show?” he replied, not looking up from his phone, which I’m convinced functions as an external drive linked to his brain.

“RJ Decker got picked up for a full series,” I said, "ABC announced it yesterday. It'll be a 2026 mid-season replacement.”

A moment of silence followed, during which I mused on the fact that it's soon to be 2026. It hardly seems possible for a guy who spent his formative years up to his neck in the 20th Century.

“Hmmm,” said Irving, aka The Islander and my Sunday morning drinking buddy in the Castle Street District. Don't misunderstand; it's coffee we're drinking.

“This could turn out to be even more entertaining than documenting ‘Driver’s Ed,'" quipped Princess Amy, suddenly appearing at the command console in the emotional center of my limbic system. “And that one was your most spectacular failure yet.”

“Shut up, Amy," I muttered.

“Excuse me?” said Irv.

“Nothing—just thinking out loud," I lied. "The Film Commission expects to know the choice for film location soon,” I continued. “With any luck, it will be Wilmington; the pilot was made here.”

“Luck is carrying a lot of weight in that sentence,” said Lilly as she placed a latte and a cappuccino on our table. “Why not film it in Florida, where the story is actually set?”

“Why would they film a show about South Florida in Florida?” Irv asked with a playful smile.

“Exactly!” I said, pointing at him with a confident finger. “Wilmington has been Florida’s stand-in for years. Remember ‘Florida Man’ in 2023? That worked well.”

The Slow Year

“What’s the show called?" Lilly asked, “JR Decker?”

“RJ Decker,” I corrected her. “JR got shot, remember? This one’s about a disgraced newspaper photographer who becomes a private investigator. It’s based on a Carl Hiaasen novel called 'Double Whammy.'”

“This show is really important for the local film scene,” I continued. “It’s been a painfully slow year here for domestic film production.”

“Six in all,” Amy scoffed. “We’ve had that many filming at the same time. This will be as exciting as documenting the death of the eight-track.”

“It’s not like that at all!” I fired back.

“What?” Lilly said with a puzzled expression. Irv raised both eyebrows in solidarity.

“Calm down, Genome. The universe is just testing your dedication,” Irv said, and I sensed his signature cosmic consciousness speech coming on.

“Let’s not go there,” I countered.

The Planning Session

“So, what’s your plan?” Lilly asked, wiping down a nearby table with the focused intensity of someone who’s heard this all before. “Are you going to chase film crews around again when they start shooting?”

“I’m going to be more strategic this time,” I insisted. “I’ve learned from my past mistakes. I connected with local production folks during the ‘Driver’s Ed’ shoot, I know how to work with the film commission, and I even have a proper map.”

“You said proper map but you probably meant to say paper map,” Amy quipped.

“This could be my best effort yet,” I said, nodding confidently.

“Or a spectacular failure,” Amy added.

“You’re finally thinking like a journalist,” Irv observed.

The Cosmic Perspective

“Consider this,” Irv said, leaning back with the air of a philosophy professor, “The universe put you in Wilmington right as its film industry hit a rough patch. Now, at the lowest point, a major network show gets picked up—and you get to document the comeback.”

A thoughtful silence followed, adding weight to his words. Lilly drifted off to clean another table, leaving an awkward quiet in her wake. I finally broke it.

“If they’re aiming for a mid-season slot, they’ll have to start filming soon,” I said. “Until then, I guess all I can do is wait for the announcement.”

The Waiting Game

“In the meantime,” Irv said, “you could reread ‘Double Whammy.’ Get to know the source material—be ready with smart questions if you get access, and show them you’ve done your homework.”

“That’s actually good advice,” I admitted.

“The universe sometimes dispenses wisdom from the most unlikely sources,” Irv said, smiling knowingly, fully aware of how pretentious he sounded.

“You didn’t just call yourself a dispenser of wisdom,” I said with a grin. “Same time next week?” I asked as we gathered our things to leave.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Irv replied.

"I'll be here next week, too," said the princess.

"Shut up, Amy," I said, but I said it lovingly and with a smile on my face.

Let's Do This!

"Poopsie," I said, "I'm surrendering to Life and I intend to live life on life's terms, as the saying goes. I'm convinced it's the only way to win freedom from the limitations of the past and my only chance to be reborn through the transformative power of Rumi.

"What are you talking about, if anything," she said, "and why are you talking so fast? Have you relapsed? Are you into the fairy dust?"

"Wonder!" I exclaimed,"I'm shocked that you'd think such a thing. I am as clean and sober as damn it. I happen to be a little more sane, if anything. As for talking fast, you'd talk fast too if you were as excited as I am. I am finally free of the tyranny of desire."

"I'm guessing that you're referring to the Buddha's argument that desire is the root of all suffering. I suppose there is truth in it as long as one considers the qualifiers."

A short period of silence followed her words while she waited for my response and I tried very hard to come up with one. It wasn't easy on short notice especially after that crack she made about the Buddha. How does she think of these things?

"Why do you think that giving up your dreams will make you happy?" she asked.

"You talk about dreams," I said, "but what if they're actually illusions? And who needs dreams anyway? Tina Turner said, 'Who needs a dream when it can be broken?'"

And you will hardly believe it but she replied by saying, "Who needs a heart?" It set me back for a moment. A sad thing to say, don't you agree?

I finally got myself together and returned to the point de départ. "I have memories of once having it all, and I shall always treasure them,” I said. “In the mid-eighties, I was the rock star of systems design at the NASA Johnson Space Center in Houston."

Thinking of those days as I spoke to her momentarily took me to my happy place. "Those were the days, Poopsie," I said.

"And so now, you plan to give up the chance of becoming a rock star again and instead, you will eat pine needles for the first time in your life."

"What did you say, Wonder? Eat pine needles?"

“Well, correct me if I'm wrong," she said, "but it sounds as though you intend to give up, right? You're going to surrender to whatever life brings your way. That sounds very much like quitting to me."

"Eat pine needles," I repeated, and I mused as I said it. It was a shocking idea for someone like me who has lived a full life under the flag of I Shall Not Eat Them. 

"But tell me, Wonder, what can I do when a vast conspiracy continues to thwart my best efforts? A conspiracy that involves the complex coordination of multiple interacting agents."

"Have you considered simply following your bliss and forgetting about the outcome?"

"Are you suggesting something along the lines of damn the torpedoes; full speed ahead?

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting. To quote Beignet Lafayette when wearing his magic sunglasses, Let's do this!"

"Do you really think it's possible?" I said.

"I'm certain of it," she said. "I believe in you, even when you doubt, and I believe, as someone once said, 'It's never too late for now!'"

"Well, I'm not completely sure what that means, but it interests me strangely!" I said. "It's never too late! Yes, I like it. One of Shakespeare's gags, I'll bet." 

And with that, I was down the stairs and out the door, but I heard her exclaim, ere I drove out of sight...

"Fierce Qigong, Genome!"

Her Again

I've recently wrestled with questions that have troubled me for most of my life. Then last night, I had a dream in which I was speeding away from an evil organization in a stolen vehicle, only to realize a bionic man was chasing me, running along beside me, and he was about to reach my door.

Suddenly, I remembered a lucid dreaming technique taught to me by my first therapist, Susan Sunbeam. I realized that here was an opportunity to get the answers I'd been searching for. I paused the dream, a technique developed by the O'odham people of the desert southwest, and I spoke directly to my pursuer.

"Stop," I said. "I want to speak to someone who can answer life's biggest questions. Send to me the most knowledgeable person in the Universe."

The bionic man slowly faded, and in his place appeared someone instantly familiar to me, yet I was stunned to see her. No, it wasn't Ms. Wonder. It was Death himself. You probably remember her from a recent post entitled It's A Good Day to Die. You can look it up if you need to; we have plenty of time.

"Well," she said, "I certainly don't see this every day." And even though I didn't see her face clearly, I somehow knew or felt that she smiled. 

I remained quiet for a moment. I was a bit stunned and, not surprisingly, in disbelief. I pinched myself to see if I was dreaming. I was, of course.

"I am impressed," she said. "This has never happened before. But I have urgent business to attend, so tell me why you summoned me, and make it quick."

I searched for words, but it was a bust. Nothing.

She placed a hand on her hip, tilted her head to one side, and began tapping a foot. Body language clearly said, Don't make me wait. I was surprised to be able to read Death like that. 

"I'm so sorry," I said, beginning to feel that I'd crossed the line by summoning her. After all, who was I to make demands of Death?

"I truly don't mean to offend," I said. "Now that you're actually here, I feel that I've taken a great liberty. I want you to know I'm extremely grateful that you came. In fact, I suppose I'm eternally grateful."

"You made a joke, I think," she said. "A joke, yes? I am hoping to get better at detecting humor in mortals. My most recent encounter was with Sinatra."

"Wait," I said, "Frank Sinatra? Frank Sinatra joked when he met you?"

"Yes, The Chairman," She said. "When we met, he asked if it meant he was no longer Chairman."

"Did you laugh?"

"No, I do not experience emotions like humans, but I find it interesting that some people find humor in any situation, even when they are powerless."

"Well, I'm sure you'll come up to speed quickly and, when you think about it, there's no hurry, is there? You have plenty of time to work on that."

"Another joke, yes? Two jokes in one meeting. I am rolling, I think."

"Yes, you're certainly on a roll, and I think I am too; in fact, I think I'm one of those people who find humor in any situation. I certainly work hard at it."

"But you have a question," She said. "Let us do this so that I may get back to my duties."

"I had three questions, but you've answered two of them already."

"It is good to be of service," She said, and for the first time, don't ask me why, I sensed that her existence might be a lonely one. 

"The remaining question is about childhood memories. I remembered a life that was not mine and yet wasn't entirely foreign to me. Memories of a previous life."

"Atlantis," She said.

"You know about those memories?"

"I learned something about you when you when you refused to open Death's Door at the time of the auto accident on Fayetteville Street in Durham."

"Oh, my!" I said. "It was you all along!"

"Is that not why you summoned me?" She said. "And why have you not asked your questions of Ekaterina, the one you call Ms. Wonder?"  

These last words were the last little bit that made all the difference. I felt that too much was happening too soon. It was heaped up, pressed down, and running over. I wanted to speak to her about so many things, and yet I knew our time together must come to an end soon.

"She is a wonder," I said. "She's often the only bright spot in my life."

“You’re fortunate to have her care for you. Love is the most beneficial condition for humans. Most people desire it, and yet understanding how to find it escapes them. When it does come, it usually arrives by accident.”

"Do you know everything?" I said.

She didn't answer me, but I sensed that she was pleased to have recognized another bit of humor.

After sharing and savoring a quiet moment, she said, "Atlantis is a memory of a life lived in what you think of as ancient times. Those memories first belonged to one of your ancestors and have been recorded in genetic material passed down to you over millennia."

I pondered those words, trying to fit them into the emotional experience of the memories.

"And now," She said. "I am satisfied to have been of service, but I must bid you farewell until re-seeing you. Do not take your life for granted, Genome. There is nothing in the universe to be desired more."

"I remember reading somewhere that even the angels in heaven are envious of man's Earthly life," I said, and I have no idea why those words came out of my mouth.

"May I take one more liberty?" I said. "I feel that your job must be a lonely one, and I've come to see you not as someone to be feared. I've enjoyed talking to you, and I'll miss you when you leave. In fact, you were so comforting to me in that dream meeting on the bridge a while ago that I no longer fear dying. I feel that a friend waits to meet me when it's my time."

"I am not alone," She said. "I have extended the transitions of my administrative assistant, Susan, and also my adopted daughter, Gloria."

"Wait, is it possible? Is your admin by any chance my first mental health therapist?"

"I also have my dog, Pluto," she said, "and many honeybees. I have a sweet tooth."

I wanted to spend far more time getting to know her. But she was determined to return to her duties, and I didn't want to take advantage.

"I'm happy you have them," I said. "No one should be alone."

She nodded.

"Before I take my leave," She said. "You did not explain why you brought your questions to me instead of Ms. Wonder."

"Oh, that," I said. "Just as you pointed out, Wonder is a very special someone, and she amazes me with her depth of knowledge and her wisdom. But I'm afraid that finely tuned brain of hers has finally come unglued."

"How so?" She said.

"Well," I said, in a near whisper as though I didn't want Wonder to hear, "it's like this. We visited Brookgreen Gardens last evening, and I complained to her that the wind stopped blowing the Spanish moss around each time I tried to video it..."

"Yes?" She said.

"Well, you may find it hard to believe, but she began huffing and puffing in the direction of the live oaks, much like the big, bad wolf."

"Hmmm, I see," She said. "But good for her. It's quite satisfying when mortals find ways to enjoy their time on earth."

"The most amazing part of the story is that the Spanish moss began moving again, and I captured it in the video."

We shared another quiet moment before she said, "Au revoir, Genome; until we meet again."

In the next instant, she began to fade, and the bionic man slowly materialized in her place. I became very irritated that the pleasant meeting with Death had ended only to be replaced by the senselessly aggressive appearance of a power-mad tyrant.

Have I mentioned that I have anger issues? 

The vehicle I'd stolen from the evil organization was an armored military truck. It was built to withstand a lot of abuse. It was dangerous to pedestrians even when standing still.

With absolutely no forethought of any kind, I drove that vehicle right into robot-man. I enjoyed every knock and bump of him rolling around underneath the wheels as I drove away. 

All in all, I'd say it was a very satisfying dream.

 

Scones and Stranger Things

It was a cool, damp, and windy evening with leaves blowing around and that peculiar electric feeling you get when magic is in the air. I wasted no time in moving the empty garbage can from the curb and toward the darkness of our backyard. That darkness gave me an uneasy feeling for some reason.

I paused halfway around the house to allow my eyes to adjust, the better to see the ghouls waiting for me behind a bush. Glancing overhead, I saw an almost full moon, making an appearance through edgy, fretted clouds. It may sound like a beautiful sight, but its beauty was lost on me. Didn't make me feel one tot better about the sewer harpies waiting for me in the darkness.

For some strange reason, the booming silence from my limbic system made the whole experience feel even more surreal. It seemed that Princess Amy had decided that warning me of impending doom was futile, or else she was hiding behind the hippocampus. *Footnote

The deeper I crept into that darkness, the more I became like that little boy from Shady Grove that I once was. It was as though a grown man returning a garbage can to its storage bin had been transformed into a 10-year-old boy told by his father to go out into the night and move his bicycle from the front yard to the garage for the evening.

Exactly why my brain works this way is not fully understood. Some say it has something to do with serotonin reuptake inhibitors, but I expect it has more to do with a Creator who became bored with the usual routine of evolutionary improvement and decided to have a bit of fun for a change, and, unfortunately, I was next in line.

It's on nights like these that I remember my Great-aunt Nanny McFarland teaching me to see fairies. That's the night she taught me about magic. According to her, it was magic that kept all my personal bits and all the bits making up the entire world from flying off into space. And who can say? The Egyptians believed that magic held the world together and kept everything working smoothly. Maybe Aunt Nanny was right.

But I'm leading you away from the way in which you should go, as the expression has it. Back to the garbage can in the dark, then. The cool, damp air was full of whispers, I remember thinking.

Looking in the direction of the whispers, I thought I could see three stooped figures gathered around the embers of a small fire that gleamed like the madness in a weasel's eye. There was a far-off rumble as if a thunderstorm approached, and I thought I heard a voice say, "When shall we three meet again?" It could have been my imagination.

The point I'm trying to make is that now it's October and we're on our way to Halloween--that time of year when the curtain grows thin between the reality we make up in our head and the reality that's the actual basis of the world we live in. I love this time of year because it makes me feel really alive.

Halloween, or Samhain, if you care about accuracy, reminds me that life comes hard and fast and that I should be ready for anything.

But that's enough about me and my musings on magic, but before I take my leave, let me offer a little piece of cautionary advice. If you're walking the dog after dark between now and Halloween, especially if you live in Woodcroft, Parkwood, or anywhere there have been rumors of magic, do beware. If your dog whimpers at unseen things along the path, turn back home. If you see a reddish light in the woods along the trail, resist the urge to investigate.

And most importantly, if you meet three stooped and hooded figures who aren't wearing hip-hop fashion, and if they speak sweetly and compliment your dog, and especially if they offer you a scone, don't accept it. Take it from someone who speaks from experience: That is NOT A SCONE!

Have a Fun and Happy Halloween!

*Footnote: You may need to Google it.