Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Oooooo Weeeeeee! That headline sounds half sexy, doesn't it? Well, that's the problem. At my age, I'm only half as sexy as I used to be. And half as good a wage earner, too. But I'm holding my own.
Emmmmm. Mmmmmm. Holding my own? Perhaps I should say I'm still in the game. There's a dance or two in this lame dame!
Thursday brought one of those rare spring evenings that just drive you outdoors and beg you to party on. And it happened that a town near us was having an odd, middle-of-the-week classic car night. So I told my daughters The Heir and The Spare to drop their homework and toddle off with me for an adventure. Which they were only too glad to do.
We went to the neighboring town, and the joint was jumpin'. There was an Elvis-era rock n roll band set up in front of City Hall, and the street was lined with souped-up classic cars.
When we go to stuff like this, I almost always embarrass The Heir and The Spare. The reason: I talk to everyone like I've known them all my life. It's just the way I am. I was raised in a place where everyone did that, and it stuck with me.
So we were passing this totally bitchin' maxed-out rod with a body circa 1962 and an engine stolen from NASA. The owner, a largish fella with a white ponytale and bandanna, was leaning proudly against the machine.
I said to him, "Whoa, this car is bitchin'. How fast does it go?"
And he said, "I don't know. The speedometer's broke."
And I said, "Well, that's an inessential piece of equipment anyway."
And he said, "When the paint starts to peel off her, I know she's goin' fast."
And we both laughed.
To me, this is white magic at work. If you can make a stranger laugh, and he or she makes you laugh in return, the bored gods just shower you with positive energy.
I'm not finished with Cindy Jacobs's nasty diatribe about the occult, Deliver Us from Evil. Not by a long shot. We haven't gotten to the demon-possessed cats yet! But reading this loathsome book has got me determined to share white magic with y'all in order to counteract the widespread notion that all magic comes from de debbil. From now on, whenever I post on Friday, the topic will be How To Improve Your Life through White Magic.
So here's White Magic Lesson #1: Make a stranger laugh.
Please don't use dumb blonde jokes. That really big dude with the white ponytail might have been blonde back in the day.
6 comments:
I just wish we, as pagans, could make the idea of harming others so alien, so shameful, so UN-macho, that the idea of hexing or anything so stupid would be the farthest from anyone's mind, unless of course they WANTED to be thought of as less than human.
And he said, "When the paint starts to peel off her, I know she's goin' fast."
I take it that you choose at that time to ignore the pollution those cars produce?
Not that I didn't do my share, just that I try not to anymore. Trying to save the spare ya know.
i love making strangers laugh out loud...when you make your friends laugh, it's a good thing, but they know you're funny and almost laugh at anthing you say...strangers laughing at you..well, that's golden....dang, i knew white magic and didn't even know it..
Should we be making them laugh at us, or with us? For me, the former would probably be easier to pull off.
Re pollution and classic cars: They're grandfathered. And rare.
You perform white magic all the time, Anne!
Love,
Terri in Joburg, Laughing.
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