ORDINARY LIVES. EXTRAORDINARY STORIES. Pts. 1-3

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 population to whom I offer the fruits of my literary calling.

by William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "McDonald's Daily Diary." Vol. 33. Copyright pending.

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