A Random Image

Jett Superior laid this on you on || September 19, 2003 || 11:51 pm

Today I sat at an intersection where there was a square-headed black dog resting on its haunches, a little old lady with Alzheimers on foot, a Jehovah’s witness on a bike and me in m’Saturncar, each adorning our section of the crossroads in front of a large, ornately-windowed church. The streets were unusually empty and quiet.

Save for me, the dog, the little old lady and the Jehovah’s Witness, of course. There seemed to be a pregnant pause where we all took turns looking at one another in detached earnestness, but that could’ve been fatigue working its mojo on me.

“This,” I said to myself, “is how really great independent film starts.”

Earlier tonight I sorted through a pile of pennies garnered from my so-ugly-it’s-adorable piggy bank, searching for just the right one, and by ‘just the right one’ I mean one with a certain year on it. In that mound of pennies there just so happened to be one and only one with that certain year, and I smiled to myself at the marvel of there being a solitary penny with the certain year amidst the couple-hundred that the bank spat out. These sorts of teeny reckonings set me on fire sometimes, and move me in ways that great happenings cannot or do not.

The one-cent piece was grungy with age and I set about polishing it with the copper cream that resides under the kitchen sink, my insides warm and grinning at the thought of the delight it would maybe bring its recipient in a few days. I like facilitating happiness in others, I like it beyond all other likes, I think, and all the better if they do not see it coming or –better still– if I can do it anonymously.

I know that none of this makes any sense to any of you, really, but I think often on how things tend to settle out, on how we are instruments of the universe sometimes without even trying, on how there are things delivered to others through us that we

a) sometimes have no knowledge of at all and

b) that can make such huge and wonderful impacts on lives and spirits, even to the point of being absolutely life-saving or life-changing.

It is this knowledge that feeds my faith, that buoys up in me a hope, that gives me an able nugget of peace and rightness to savor in times where nothing should make sense and everything has the appearance of being disjointed.

Quite by accident –or was it?– I insisted during an online chat one night four or so months ago that one friend should call another, as I was exhausted and insistent on going to bed at a reasonable hour for once. They two count it as their luck, but it was all the more lucky for me, really, that I was utilized –chosen, as it were– in that capacity (haphazard as though it may appear) and two people really, really connected as a result.

Quite on purpose I sat polishing a penny tonight, humming a tune in the key of A (my favorite, it seems), looking forward to some sort of magic to come from it when it lands in the faraway hands that I’ve never seen but can almost picture in my mind’s eye.

It’s a mighty privelege to gift others; remember that. Act on it. Be amazed, be taken aback, be. Know that you are a gift, somehow and in some way (whether it is completely clear to you or not in this moment, right now) to those that you come into contact with, and maybe even to some that you don’t….not directly, anyway.

You have a purpose, and it is deliciously, randomly exact.

7 worked it out »

  1. wouldn’t be an ‘85 penny would it?

  2. Jett 9.20.2003

    (finger on lips)

  3. Jett 9.20.2003

    Hey, you should find me on AIM.

  4. Joe 9.20.2003

    Priceless moment. Had one not quite on the same scale the other day, but worth sharing. I was at work and a client thought he was alone and I was just around the corner. This guy ripped the loudest fart of all time. I couldn’t help but come around the corner and say, “Wow!” I had to bite my tongue, literally, because I wanted to laugh so hard I had to make it hurt. This guy not only turned three shades of red, but had a look of frozen terror imprinted on his face.

  5. melly 9.20.2003

    I love you both so.

    That said, what the fuck is on top of your computer? A dead poodle?

  6. Jett 9.21.2003

    It’s this angel doll made from rags or scraps of material or sommat.

    With, cornily enough, spanish moss for hair.

  7. John 9.22.2003

    That was the chat where (ahem) someone typed, “i want to stick my chicken mcnugget into your gary coleman.”

    Could there be any doubt about the future?

    Much love…


RSS feed for comments on this post.

(you know you want to)