When I was a
boy, a full six decades ago, my brothers and I used to walk down an old dirt
road in the late afternoon on our way to the Ritz Theater, and an early evening
‘picture show.’ That long ago parents gave no thought, whatsoever, of those unnamed,
unseen boogey men who might suddenly appear out of the darkness, and snatch
their precious children from their proverbial grasp.
Somehow, the vast majority
of us navigated that little season successfully, and lived to tell about it.
Speaking of
picture shows my wife and I ‘took in’ a movie yesterday at one of those 18
cinema type establishments; which is the norm in our day and time. Whereas,
when I was coming along we had all of one feature to choose from.
And as I
stood at the ticket counter, smiled at the young lady behind the glass, and
said, “‘Passengers,’ please, (a fictional, outer space flick), Senior Discount”
my own words triggered distant memories of a day when a familiar young lad stood
at a similar ticket window, and a middle-aged lady behind the window who, as I
recall, wore the brightest red lipstick, did the speaking for me. Since there
was little or no need for the patron to remember the title, as it was ‘the only
game in town’ the ticket lady merely reminded me of the monetary figure by
which she would allow me to negotiate the double doors that separated me from
my quest.
Speaking of
my momentary ‘back to the future’ experience, and my recall having been
triggered as it was, I quickly realized it was no wonder at all, since the only
film title I remember from those days of yore, of the dozens and dozens I most
certainly attended, was that of a space movie.
“The Angry
Red Planet”
Pt. 2
All the
foregoing to say that as my wife and I sat (less than) spellbound in the upper
deck of one of the smaller auditoriums in that vast cinematic establishment,
one of the two major movie characters philosophizes,
“If all you
do is live an ordinary life, all you will do is write ordinary stories.”
Well, since
I’m an aspiring author, (and hope to publish this year) I can tell you that
particular adage captured my attention; like nothing else in the entire movie.
The female
lead happens to be a writer, who along with the male lead, seem to be the only
two cognizant passengers among multiplied thousands of other passengers and
crew; since they have regained their sensibilities a quarter of the way into a
120 year hibernation voyage to another planet.
And since
they face the probability of living out the remainder of their mortal lives
alone, surrounded by approx. 5,296 virtual zombies in their respective
hibernation pods, ‘Aurora’ reaches a speedy conclusion. Her singular reading
audience and sole critic is her gender opposite, ‘Jim.’
And in spite
of the reality that she is now living anything but an ordinary life, (re. her
earlier opinionation) her literary consumptive base has been so drastically
reduced that Aurora questions the sanity of pursuing the career to which she is
most certainly called.
Paradoxically,
our heroine has been afforded the ‘opportunity’ to live out an extraordinary
life, but she understands that short of reading pod-side stories to a myriad of
sleeping beauties, her career has suddenly evaporated like spit in the wind.
Pt. 3
Not unlike
Aurora and Jim, and all the other passengers and crew on that interstellar
spacecraft, humankind finds itself a-sail on ‘Starship Earth.’ Its destination,
our individual allotments of years, and the fulfillment of whatever plan God
has written into the fabric of our beings. And I am a fellow passenger on that
voyage.
I have often
felt like that aspiring interstellar writer whose audience had been reduced to
insignificant proportions, and questioned whether my rather ordinary life possessed
any real potential to communicate extraordinary stories, and whether the fruits
of my inspiration were capable of anything of lasting consequence.
For in spite
of the fervor and consistency of my literary meanderings, my readership has
remained comparatively small, and in spite of my own biased perspective of my modest
abilities, my potential for publication has remained a good theory.
“If all you
do is live an ordinary life, all you will do is write ordinary stories.”
Somehow, as
nicely as Aurora’s words grace the lips, and add flavor to the page, I suggest
a more relevant rendering might be,
“If all one
does is live an ordinary life, but lives that life extraordinarily, extraordinary
stories may result.”
I strive to
live my rather ordinary life in an extraordinary manner.
Ultimately,
the movie character not only grasped, but embraced the realization that her
calling remained intact; in the absence of a viable population to whom she wished
to offer her literary leanings.
She finally
understood, (as I did long ago) that the starship, to which she owed her life
and calling, would continue its perilous, but purposeful voyage; long after she’d
gone on to her reward. And that her fellow passengers would, someday, one day, upon
awakening, have the opportunity to glean from the fruits of her labors; as
would their children and children’s children.
Ultimately,
my yet unborn descendants will, much like the passengers in the movie, come to
themselves on Starship Earth; long after I have passed from the scene. And I
have long since realized that they were, from the beginning, my intended audience,
and the primary (though not the only) population to whom I offer the fruits of my literary calling.
By
William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 50. Copyright pending
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