As the crowd erupted once again, Arthur found himself gliding through the air and down toward one of the large stately windows on the first floor of the building behind the dais from which the speaker was addressing the crowd.
He experienced a moment's panic as he sailed straight toward the window, which passed when a second or so later he found he had gone right through the solid glass without apparently touching it.
No one in the room remarked on his peculiar arrival, which is hardly surprising as he wasn't there. He began to realize that the whole experience was merely a recorded projection which knocked six-track seventy-millimeter into a cocked hat.
The room was much as Slartibartfast had described it. In seven and a half million years it had been well looked after and cleaned regularly every century or so. The ultramahogany desk was worn at the edges, the carpet a little faded now, but the large computer terminal sat in sparkling glory on the desk's leather top, as bright as if it had been constructed yesterday.
Two severely dressed men sat respectfully before the terminal and waited.
"The time is nearly upon us," said one, and Arthur was surprised to see a word suddenly materialize in thin air just by the man's neck. The word was LOONQUAWL, and it flashed a couple of times and then disappeared again. Before Arthur was able to assimilate this the other man spoke and the word PHOUCHG appeared by his neck.
"Seventy-five thousand generations ago, our ancestors set this program in motion," the second man said, "and in all that time we will be the first to hear the computer speak."
That's a long time to wait for a computer to run a program. Seventy-five thousand generations. That's almost as bad as waiting for your laptop to update and restart. It's an eternity of anticipation, with little pay off for most of the waiters. Yet, all of the planet's inhabitants have gathered for the occasion. The Time of Waiting is over
Miracles happen every day. Just don't sit around waiting for them, though. Recognize them, give thanks for them. Even in the middle of the darkest moments of my life, I have experienced grace and blessing.
I have a friend right now who's really hurting because someone close to her is in the grips of an addiction. She is distraught, lonely, and heartbroken. There's a great novella called Miss Lonelyhearts by Nathanael West. It's one of my favorites. For the sake of this post, I'm going to call my friend "Miss Lonelyhearts."
Well, Miss Lonelyhearts, I know right now it's hard to find a rainbow in the storm that you're in. It's really easy to get lost in dark clouds and tornadoes. Just ask Dorothy Gale. She tried running away from her problems, and her problems swept in and carried her away. (She also got a bitchin' pair of ruby slippers along the way.) Of course, the problem with Dorothy is that her troubles really did melt like lemon drops. Your problems are not quite as easy to solve.
I know where you are. Have been where you are. Am there every day of my life. You see, Miss Lonelyhearts, addiction isn't some puzzle you solve once. It's a puzzle that you have to keep working on all the time. That's what I've learned dealing with my wife's addiction. Addiction isn't the common cold. You can't cure it with chicken soup and bed rest. Addiction is something you work on every day of your life, whether you're the addict or a family member of the addict.
That sounds a little preachy, doesn't it? Sorry about that. It's just what I know, Miss Lonelyhearts. I've tricked myself into believing sometimes that my wife's addiction and mental illness have gone away. They haven't. That's magical thinking, believing that your thoughts and ideas can actually influence that material world. I think my wife is cured of addiction and mental illness. Therefore, my wife is cured of addiction and mental illness. Doesn't quite work that way.
My definitive answer so far this evening is this, Miss Lonelyhearts:
- Treat yourself kindly. Don't blame or beat yourself up for your addict's behavior.
- Don't think that you're going to force your addict into becoming sober. Again, that's magical thinking. Not gonna happen.
- Addiction is selfish, stubborn, hurtful, confounding, frustrating, painful, debilitating, and devastating.
- Recovery is a long, yellow brick road through cornfields, enchanted forests, and poppy fields. When you get to the Emerald City, they won't let you in.
- Recovery is lifelong, for yourself and your addict.
Please know, Miss Lonelyhearts that you are not alone. I remind myself that tonight, as well. Loneliness is just one of the lands your have to travel through before you get to see the Wizard.
Also, remember to pay no attention to that man behind the curtain, Miss Lonelyhearts.
Saint Marty will meet you at the witch's castle with a bucket of water.
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