There is an underrated movie from 1967 called “The Presidents Analyst”. It tells the story of a presidents analyst who cannot talk with anyone about what he knows. This creates more anxiety than he can deal with. It leads to catastrophic paranoia. In the meantime, various government agencies are trying to kill him. The phone company (a unit with the same power as Facebook, google, and other large personal data collecting monsters) wants what he knows to further their cause of power. He ends up being protected by a suburban “Liberal” family that has more guns the the “right wing wackos” they are protecting themselves from. With many crazy mind bending plot twists that were common in the movies of the late 60’s, the kind that Austin Powers liked to spoof, in the end, the main character realizes the “it’s the phone company” behind all of the evil in their lives, behind all the evil in the world.
Hollywood was serious about their message in an insane package. This movie was destined for greatness, but gathered the attention of J. Edgar Hoover and somehow disappeared from the box office.
I have recently located my universal antagonist. Before I say what that is, I will mention that in the past, I have identified a direct connection between how cluttered my garage was to being able to carry out large and important projects with my vehicles, my yard or inside my house. It has been the vapor lock on my ambition and self esteem. I know this sounds silly, but there really is a demoralizing effect about it.
This week, while Donna was on a family trip, I set up certain rules of my own design for my son’s to follow. The one most renegade, maverick, and provocative idea was to empty the dishwasher when the dishes are dry. Because the unit is then empty, we can put dirty dishes into it, as we are done with them.
I know I am sounding ridiculous here, but I have a right to be elated here. We have developed a bad habit from when our kids were babies. When the dishwasher was done, we left the clean dishes in it as we added dirty dishes to the sink in various stages of rinsed and not rinsed condition. So when I am in Market Basket, there is still a glimmer within my soul to be creative and make something for dinner that makes you feel thankful to be alive to experience tastes.
The reality is, you get home and have to carry in the things you bought (5 minutes), put everything away (15 minutes), empty the dishwasher (12 minutes), rinse, sand and chisel the crap off the dishes in the sink and load into the dishwasher (18 minutes), then wash anything that might not have fit into the dishwasher. It is this soul-sucking series of events that reduces me to the creative excellence of producing a bowl of Lucky Charms. It’s degrading!
This week, employing all the soft, sweet mannered loving direction of Hitler, I convinced my sons to NEVER PUT ANYTHING INTO THE SINK when they are done with it. It was difficult, but with my fine resolve to be annoyingly persistent, they did well. The most outstanding side effect was that my ambition to cook was not stolen from me. We made burgers with Korean toppings, hand cut fries cooked in cast iron, chicken broccoli casserole, Asian dumplings and spinach artichoke dip. Not only did I put everything into the dishwasher after use, but I think I actually looked forward to the running and unloading, making everything a new again.
I know that the days ahead will be difficult, but the payoff is immense.
