Posts Tagged With: finger puppets

Day 435: What Happened?

Last night, I woke up, thought of a post title, wrote the whole post in my head, and fell back asleep.

This isn’t it.

Today’s post is inspired by several things, including one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies, “Tootsie,” with Dustin Hoffman. The line is said by Bill Murray, in an (uncredited) appearance as the playwright who lives with Dustin’s character.  Here’s a YouTube video of Bill delivering several lines (including my favorite one) at a surprise birthday party:

(thanks to palecalo)

For those of you who can’t see that video for any reason, here’s the line, delivered by Jeff, the roommate/playwright:

Jeff: I don’t like it when people come up to me after my plays and say, “I really dug your message, man.” Or, “I really dug your play, man. I cried.”

I like it when people come up to me the next day, or a week later, and they say, “I saw your play. What happened?”

I was noticing, as I was writing the introductions to that scene, that “playwright” is spelled weirdly. That is, it’s spelled “playwright” instead of “playwrite.”

What happened?

Damned if I know. Spelling, sometimes, makes no intuitive sense to me.

Anyway, yesterday, at work, I had to make copies of the packet I use, when I’m orienting new people to my therapy groups.

What happened?

I ran out of packets, because more people have been interested in these groups, lately.

What happened?

None of the copy machines I usually use were working.

What happened?

I don’t know why I had so much trouble finding copiers that worked properly, yesterday. I wonder if this was related to the time change over the weekend.  People seemed to be working strangely; perhaps, losing an hour affected machines, too.

What happened?

Well, I’ll tell you something that DIDN’T happen.  In the past, when machines have broken down inexplicably, I’ve overreacted. I didn’t,  yesterday.

What happened?

I’ve done a lot of work on this, in therapy. I know that my overreactions, about machines breaking down, are related to my having lived most of my life dependent upon a machine.

What happened?

I’ve needed a cardiac pacemaker, since age 10, to survive.

Well, at this point, I think I have some idea what this post is about.

Even though people may sometimes ask the question

What Happened?

… as dazed and clueless as Bill Murray’s wished-for audience members, they still go on, as best they can.

While I may have cried out, or thought, silently

What Happened?

… without any answer forthcoming, at certain difficult times in my life (for example, when somebody left me, or caretakers weren’t there when I needed them), I survived.

And, sometimes, we do get an answer to that question.

For example, if anybody has wondered

What happened?

… to some puppets from Panama:

Image

who appeared, previously, in this post, a few weeks ago …

 

… here’s the answer (for some of them):

IMG_3066

.

Thanks to Bill Murray, “Tootsie,”  people who ask “What Happened?” (whether or not they get answers), and to you — of course! — for happening by here, today.

Categories: inspiration, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

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