the role i was born to play

Some people’s great ideas come to them in the shower. Not for me. When I’m in the shower I’m usually thinking that I’m late, and don’t have time to fiddle with the tempermental temperature of the water, so lukewarm trending to cold will have to do.

No, great insight doesn’t hit me until I’m in the car. I had a good one today. But I can’t tell these great ideas to anyone; I’d be like the only bloke smoking pot in the non-smoking section of a Denny’s restaurant. When I tell other people my good ideas, they don’t comprehend, and they seem a little nervous. But the worst part is that when I try to explain my fabulous insight to others, the greatness of the idea evaporates. It’s like a beautiful dream; suddenly I don’t get it anymore.

Today’s great Vehicular Hindsight was about the concept of story. I thought to myself I wonder if the characters in novels or movies ever feel like they’re part of a story? In the past I’ve always assumed that no, the great heroes don’t feel like they’re in a story. It’s just life for them, and usually it’s the rough life. Things are generally longshot to impossible odds for the protagonist when I wonder about these things.

But today I thought differently. Today I thought no, you know what? I bet they do feel like they’re in a story. I believe this because it is part of human nature to see ourselves in the arc of a story. We all do this. When we say that So-and-so is a drama queen, we mean that she tends to get wrapped up in the wrong story. She doesn’t see the bigger picture, and thus doesn’t chill out like the rest of us. Of course some stories have very sad endings, while others end in simplistic triumph. But it’s in our nature to look for patterns in the stars, and then to see ourselves among them.

C.S. Lewis said of the theory of evolution–in particular the notion of sentient man alone in a Godless universe–was his favorite myth. When I read that I wasn’t sure if he was being wickedly funny or startlingly sincere. But I’ve read enough of his writings to reach the conclusion that the latter is true. For as stories go, that one’s a doozy. It’s like a Shakespearean tragedy.

There is something about tragic stories that fortifies the heart, particularly if you’ve had any of life’s trouble. We fit ourselves into the arcs of stories we’ve heard. And at the worst of times, it is a comfort to think what an interesting tale this will make! My blokes will hardly believe it all as we crowd around our usual table at Denny’s, smoke hazing the space between our sad and tired faces, while we, wrapped shoulder to shoulder in our coats and tucked into our pie and waffles, onion rings and coffee, embellish a bit and wish the check would never come.