Now that I have, with some nudging from my British digital marketing friends, set-up a personal Facebook page and an authorship page under my ‘nom de plume’ Nathaniel Sewell – of which – I am certain Nostradamus foretold within one of his many quatrains that it would be a sign for the coming Apocalypse of Facebook or any sort of social media site.
“Beware of the pasty-white middle-aged scribe,
He doth lurk amongst the organized modern light that binds humanity together,
He comes from another time, doth appear to age slowly, and his bouffant, real,
Verily I say, be warned, Nye he HIP, nor he ahead-of-any-curve … word.”
So, I am not certain as to what sinister part I have in this intergalactic play, but I had observed your rather cool ‘States Street Fire Station’ t-shirt. It is the reason I am writing this post – no, not the cool t-shirt that I would like to have – but that happy grin. That grin reminded me of someone, and why Blue Moons only happen, on average every 2.7 years – if the folks at Space Dot Com are accurate.
But I digress …
Alas, this morning in Houston, at my relative position, I am thankful because I know the Earth has continued its west to east spin atop Atlas’s shoulders within its annual oblong orbit around the Sun. Our Earthly home now being tilted toward the Sun post vernal equinox, and the spring season is bathed from the Sun’s light-waves to create all the refracted natural colors within the arch of a rainbow.
As to rainbows, I have a dearly departed friend that after a summer storm he and his wife would get into his expensive foreign made (in South Carolina) automobile, drive-off from our safe ‘cul-de-sac’, and seek where the rainbow began or ended. Why? He simply loved the wondrous colors in the sky. Now, he was not a dreamer, but quite a bright legal bulb, being a sought after ‘white-hatted defense attorney’ for hospitals, doctor’s that do-dumb- things (that I might have insured), and the like miscreant. But in reality, I think he just loved the chase, because I think he chose to let the chase move him to feel – happiness. Of course, I wrote, ‘have’ and not – ‘had’, because for me – he is still very much alive within the electrical synapses of my brain. If I simply close my eyes and think about him, he’s right there with me, making a joke, giving me advice, or leaving an evil Gator object hidden in our refrigerator. “That’s just cold, man, evil voodoo.”
Rainbows only appear from sunlight being refracted or reflected through the prism of raindrops, I know because Neal deGrasse Tyson told me so. But if you don’t have happy or sad tears, well, you don’t get to really enjoy or understand the true colors from a rainbow, right?
To me, I guess we all like to block out the ugly aspects from life on Earth, and go to our ‘happy eruption zone’. And you know something, not all the ‘Smiling Jack’s and Jackie’s’ at Disney are children, there are a lot of adults, sans the kids, playing about the park on a steamy Florida day that flock there to seek their ‘happiest place on Earth’. I know because I have observed them within their habitat, when relatives would come to visit us. At the time, I did not understand, and the fact my wife had been a summer intern and had seen several characters underground the park – smoking – well; all the mystery was gone for me. But I was wrong, the smiling, sweating, fanny-pack crowd ahead me in the log flume ride line, they and my friend were right. They understood something I did not, I do now.
Perhaps my friend had listened to a song written by Paul Williams and Kenneth Ascher, and performed by my personal hero, Kermit the Frog:
“Who said that every wish would be heard
and answered when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that and someone believed it.
Look what it’s done so far.
What’s so amazing that keeps us star gazing
and what do we think we might see?
Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, the dreamers and me.”
~Kermit the Frog (The Muppet Movie)
Well, thanks to my friend, here is what I found at the metaphorical ‘cherry at the end of the rainbow’. Let me explain, my friend was a University of Florida graduate, yes, a Gator, and we were lucky enough to enjoy a game within that high school gym on the Gainesville campus, nicknamed the “O’Dome”. Within the seeds from those memories, I remember the drive from Tampa to Gainesville on a ‘school night’. The fun from our middle-aged, smack-talking banter, the moist, terrible hotdogs, and other indigestible snacks that he refused to let me pay for, the aroma from cigarette smoke wafting from the open side-doors, a highly competitive college basketball game, and the fact my Big Blue team won that night. But then we had a long drive back to Tampa, right? Oh, the deliciously unmerciful drive back, listening to my smiling pie-hole in the middle of the night down I-75, or better known as ‘risking your life down an amateur off-track NASCAR speedway’ with several 18-wheelers sprinkled in.
But you know something? I remember being at a hospital ER, and standing near my friend who had gone on to the other side. So, I’d give just about anything to take that same long road trip journey from Tampa, up I-75, across NE Waldo Road and actually avoid slowing down to go through speed-trap hell, better known as ‘Waldo’. On a ‘school night’, with a snarky Gator Alum, telling me about his investment in an ill-conceived piece of real estate in a ‘don’t blink or your past the town’, known as ‘Mango’, no I am not making this up and I am not referring to a SNL character.
But this time – on the drive back, I have on the losing pair of sneakers. Yeah, I would happily hope for my Big Blue team to lose at that high school gymnasium. But, I open my eyes, because that’s not life and we don’t get to go back in time, I don’t care what Einstein thought about wormholes (assuming he’s not reading this within his secret lair hiding out with Elvis and Professor Quan).
So, to those that really do read this, I lift up my cold, plastic cup – half-full – of Kentucky auburn colored nectar with just enough shaved ice to bring out the aged ancestral heritage, dreamed up by the master craftsman distiller, and I simply, humbly say, “Thank you to those young men that will forever be chasing springtime rainbows, thanks for letting me tag along to simply scream at the television, and complain about the conspiratorial referees.”
Then I take a sip, take a deep breath and I thank God to be alive. (Repeat as needed-)
As I gaze up at the Sun shining at my relative position in Houston, I look forward to the autumnal equinox when the days grow short, the Third Rock from the Sun’s rotation shifts toward darkness, perhaps I’ll have a few more Big Blue Hairs, a grin wearing my brand new ‘States Street Fire House’ t-shirt, and we begin our wondrous new journey to go to our collective happy zone, and seek those rare Big Blue Rainbows and wonder what’s on the other side.
Your Facebook Friend,
PS – If you feel sad, or hung-over, I recommend coconut water, bacon, a pair of colorful woven socks, a forced grin and going to You Tube and finding Kermit the Frog.