Areas of Unrest

5 August 1999 - Happily Ever After

They lived happily ever after. Except that isn't quite how the world works.

Cinderella hadn't quite realized the implications of the glass slipper. The prince's foot fetish was tiresome enough but glass is unyielding and he wouldn't permit her to get some nice comfy gel insoles and, in the end, they split up over her corns and callouses.

Meanwhile, Rapunzel decided to go for a more modern look, especially after her doctor suggested that the weight of all that hair might be causing her chronic headaches. Her prince came home, took one look at that short layered cut and was out the door faster than you can say "tit tom tat."

Hansel wanted to marry, but every woman he dated seemed to be such a witch. In the meantime, Gretel was sure she'd be fine if she could just stop those sugar binges.

Sleeping Beauty hadn't been out of that castle in all those years, so maybe it was no surprise she developed agoraphobia. The adultery suit against Snow White wasn't really all that surprising either, though having seven co-respondents named in the divorce proceedings was unusual and she hadn't realized that the magic mirror she inherited would be such a willing witness to her dalliances with the dwarfs. The environmentalists are still picketing Jack's house, between that unnatural giant beanstalk and the goose that lays the golden eggs, obvious products of uncontrolled genetic engineering research.

The fairy godmother went into therapy, too, and joined CoDependents Anonymous.

So the storyteller didn't know what to do. None of the old familiar characters were doing what she wanted them to do. She wanted a nice neat world where people killed one dragon and then could live happily ever after and ever after meant forever. Instead, demons stalked the earth, snatching at people she cared about, tearing them apart from inside, cell by cell transforming into vicious crab-clawed death.

Okay, it's not like I really want or expect people to live forever, but I am tired of people dying. This one wasn't a shock per se - Norman had been dealing with cancer the entire time I knew him and, while he'd been doing better for a while, he'd seemed slower, shakier, even paler (as much as it makes sense for a black man to look pale), the last couple of times I'd seen him. One night at Long Beach Storytellers, he'd told a story about death going to visit a man, and while I don't remember the exact story, what I do remember involved the man being hospitable to death, offering him a meal, establishing a friendly relationship. I can see Norman that way, that kind and gentle man offering death a cup of tea, a warm hug and a story.

We talked about Norman after storytelling and Nancy said that, while he insisted he didn't want a memorial service, we should go ahead and have something. I think the plan is to plant a tree in his honor (probably at El Dorado Park) and celebrate his life with stories. It's a good illustration of the principle that funerals are for the living.