Excerpt 46: INTERLUDE IV Excerpts from the Chief Communicator’s Occasional Log A reminiscence, Summer, 1977, Bayonne, Missouri, USA There is a wristwatch graveyard on the high windowsill above the kitchen sink in the house I grow up in because my mom, my middle sister, Cassie, and I kill watches by wearing them. Somehow, we can’t bear to trash them, so there they sit, waiting for…. Resurrection? Redemption? Godot? My two sisters, Violet (age 12), Cassandra (Cassie) (age 17), my sister-in-law, Raisa (age 24), my mom (age 46), Rose, and I (age 23) are sitting at the kitchen table during one of my rare visits “home” from New England, where I live from 1974-98. None of us has children, yet, of my generation, and, for another rarity, no one has recently died or is getting married during this visit, so it is relatively not frenetic. The house I spend 12 years growing up in (ages 6 – 18) is brand-new when we move in (1960), but somewhat “used” because it is the “model” house for the neighborhood. For about a year before we move in, people take tours of it to get to know the type of house all the rest of the houses are: split-level, almost “ranch,” “open concept,” meaning, none of the main rooms has doors, just doorways or open space "between" the kitchen, dining and living rooms and front foyer. These spaces open onto both the up and down staircases, so there are views and audio contact with almost all rooms at all times if one stands by the two staircases (which are side-by-side). In that position, you can hear and see three active televisions (downstairs den, kitchen counter, living room), and hear one more from upstairs in my mom’s bedroom, each on a different channel. All TVs on, all the time, seems to be the usual situation when a lot of us are at the house. These and we make a lot of noise. So, that summer afternoon, sitting there, we are playing cards (cribbage or Spite and Malice (double solitaire) and joking, teasing, laughing, talking, when Uri Gellar comes on, a guest on the mid-afternoon, local talk show, hosted by Charlotte Peters (the first woman on television in St. Louis and a twenty-three year veteran of a daily one-hour show on KSD-TV). I know who Uri Gellar is, but no one else does, so I explain that he is a renowned psychic with powers of telekinesis, psychometry, and other abilities. “He has had his aura photographed via ‘Kirlian’ photographic methods, and his aura goes into the next room, seemingly,” I explain to my skeptical family. Today, Uri is showing Charlotte’s studio audience how he bends spoons without touching them, one of his signature “tricks.” My family is not impressed. Then, Uri speaks, in his sonorous tones and Israeli accent, to everyone watching (there and “at home”): “Does anyone have a broken watch?” We look at each other and at the watch graveyard and start giggling. “Go get it,” Uri urges, commandingly. My sisters and I immediately get up and race to the windowsill to retrieve the dead watches. There are enough (5) for each of us to have one. We sit back down and wait for Uri’s instructions, laughing, with our watches in front of us on the table. Uri tells us to “Concentrate!” on the dead watches. We are told: “See the second hand moving. FOCUS. Move it with your mind!” It is completely silent as we each concentrate on our watches, in our kitchen and in the studio.
Posted on: Tue, 10 Sep 2013 10:59:09 +0000
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