Blondie and I had breakfast last Saturday at one of our favorite spots – The Goodness Grows Restaurant at The State Farmers Market. That’s not its real name but what I call it. The GGR is country cookin’ served to God Fearin’ Americans by salt-of-the-earth folks. It occurred to me that if a giant wave turned us upside down at that moment we might survive. Would every circumstance we find ourselves in survive “A Poseidon Adventure”? ….. and UNC’s young Chancellor meets the legendary Curmudgeon.
If you don’t understand a Poseidon Adventure analogy, just go away. We occupy parallel universes and I don’t have the patience to build a bridge to wherever you are.
Unexpected disaster scenarios always involve a hardy gaggle of imperfect strangers sharing some incredibly dangerous circumstance be it a capsized cruise ship, a collapsed tunnel, an earthquake, a fire in a high-rise, and a personal favorite – giant rabbits attacking a West Texas town. The make-up of the gaggle follows the pattern of those 50s WWll platoon movies.
Every army/marine platoon in WWll contained …. An Eye-talian kid from Brooklyn …. An Iowa farm boy …. A Southern hick …. An arrogant bully …. A quiet kid from parts unknown who harbors a dark secret past …. and “Sarge” who seemingly knew no fear but gets zapped by a sniper in the first 30 minutes leaving “getting us out of here alive” up to the group combining its conflicting personalities and skill sets. The quiet kid with the dark secret was the best bet for emerging as the natural leader. …. NOTE: later version of “typical platoon” movies included a defiant colored man who don’t say much but ends up using his natural strength and athletic prowess to save the Cracker hick.
In a Poseidon Adventure scenario you factor in the tension of opposite sexes and, by universal law, a defrocked priest who has lost his faith due to his role, a few years earlier, in the death of a busload of orphans. ….. Also an elderly couple, …… a sexy ingenue whose dress gets torn in a provocative fashion during the actual disaster and TAA DAA …. Another quiet young man harboring a dark secret.
Not that any of us would ever get to pick our disaster partners since the unexpected nature of the disaster is essential to its incredulity. But it makes sense to avoid as much as possible those gatherings of quite unsatisfactory potential disaster mates. Keep that in mind if you ever consider visiting your state’s General Assembly in session. OK, that is by its very nature, a disaster in progress so you have only yourself to blame. Who less likely to come up with a solution for anything than a bunch of elected politicians? The best news from a disaster in their midst would be a fire chief played by Richard Widmark announcing there are No Survivors …. except a young senate page played by Valerie Justice who emerges from the smoldering rubble ….. with her dress torn in a provocative fashion.
But I figure the fellow diners at the Goodness Grows Restaurant at The State Farmers Market would be a mighty fine group to be imperiled with. They appeared to be “get’er done” types comfortable with machinery and jury rigging stuff to make it work. Jury-rigging is a most valued quality in a survival team member. Most seemed of a rural agricultural persuasion indicating a non-fear of manual labor and accustomed to coping with low survival odds.
Most also were packing enough odipose tissue to able to survive missing a meal or two in the process of “getting us out of here alive”. A factor not to taken lightly as “that soccer team that crashed in The Andes” will attest.
The wimmenfolk exuded a quiet resolve that they could be counted on not to collapse on the curb in a blubbering hysterical mess. There was a definite American pioneer spirit undergirding the diners on Saturday last at the GGR.
I did not identify the winsome ingénue who would provide the sexual tension that threatens to pit the men against each other rather than working together. To have identified said participant would have created sexual tension twixt Blondie and I in the moment.
Playing our Poseidon Adventure Game was great fun and might become a regular unspoken activity in various circumstances.
At the Mall ….. at a FB game in Kenan/Wally Wade/ or C-F …. at church …. on Franklin Street (yikes!) …. at a Waffle House …. at a Broadway musical production …. in a golf clubhouse in a gated community …. at the DMV or similar dysfunctional government queque-up…. ??? Imagine your own possible scenarios and assign a survival likelihood based on your fellow “partners by circumstance”.
As updated to “Dear Doogie” ….. Ol’ Buford pulled off a momentous diplomatic coup on Monday. EB sent the Dear Doogie letter to UNC’s young nab-lovin Chancellor. Doogie actually stopped unpacking his cardboard boxes of personal stuff into the corner office long enough to extend a Chancellory hand of friendship to Ye Olde Curmudgeon.
Following an exchange of snappy e-repartees twixt the two of us, I am committing to run interference for the new ringmaster of the Chapel Hill Circus Absurdum. At least until he gets his bearings and/or disembowels a dozen or so goggle-eyed academic anarchists. I have suggested Gene Nichol as a great one to start with but I am leaving the actual selection of human sacrifices to Doogie’s choice.
The young fella has demonstrated a lively sense of humor which, along with Brunswick stew, can see a man thru many a rough patch. He said he’s been called “Doogie” often over the years. I said that was good since it’s stuck on him for good now.
In case you are wondering, the one time I met The Meez was before the SMU Peach Bowl clinching game 7 years ago. Seeing abject fear in another man’s eyes is something one remembers. Meez was standing between me and Dawn Bunting. Enough said!
As always, my #1 loyalty is to YOU …. The Buddies & Babes. I hold one end of Chancellor Doogie’s leash and only I know how long that leash will extend.