Life in Pennsylvania Coal Country was not, and is not, easy. Granted, I haven’t been a citizen of Clearfield County, Pennsylvania in almost twenty years, but I keep in close touch with people who are. When I lived there, hope was a luxury many refused to afford themselves. Their grandparents lived and died there, their parents lived and died there, and they were determined to live and die there. I can remember quite a few times my ambitions were deflated by the people of that area. At the time I thought they were being cruel, but I can now see they were trying to be merciful. They felt it was easier to be disappointed in plans falling apart as a youth, than to see dreams destroyed as an adult, and risk an entire life being wasted.
I think about that every time I make plans, or set goals. No one gets out of Pennsylvania Coal Country without a few reminders of the stay; like the miners left with reminders like black lung and missing appendages.
This blog is not meant to bring anyone down, quite the opposite! This week’s blog is dedicated to the most important question someone can ask themselves: what would you do if you rubbed a lamp and got three wishes? How was that for segue?
Like any good debate, or waxing philosophical, with an idiot of my caliber, we need to set the stage. I am assuming that I found a magic lamp, dusted it off, and a genie appears to grant me three wishes out of gratitude for letting him out. This question wouldn’t be any fun if there wasn’t a trick, or a twist, to it. I am assuming the genie is trying to put the screws to me with semantics. So, the goal becomes to ask for three wishes that would backfire on me in the least.
Wish No. 1: Dogs get the ability to talk to humans and humans can understand them — this one was easy. I want to be able to speak with dogs, and understand them. I want to meet a dog along the street, tell them how handsome/pretty they are, and know they understood the compliment. I’m going to go so far as to take the fun of twisting the knife away from the genie—I want to talk to my ex-wife’s dog and tell her why I never came home. I want Alice to know that I didn’t leave her behind and that I miss her every day. I want Alice to know it was nothing she did, that I didn’t stop loving her, and that I still think about her. More than being able to tell her those things, I want to know that she understands, even if she refuses to forgive me.
Wish No. 2: I want the ability to make it rain, and stop raining, on command — this is the “indulging my inner asshole” wish. Picture it: I’m at Target, getting my designer home-decorations, and some crotch-goblin goes running through the store. Obviously, I can’t trip the fuck-trophy, so what recourse do I have? I can make it rain. Is the booger-muncher looking forward to going to an amusement park? Not anymore. Are they going to play baseball with their friends? Try again. Are the parents going to push them outside so Mom can take a Merlot nap? Flash flooding. I wouldn’t entirely use my powers for evil. Is there torrential rainfall making it impossible to save puppies from a building? Captain Meteorology is on it! Controlling rainfall also grants plausible deniability. Who would use the rain to inconvenience people? It is just a freak act of nature. It’s perfect!
Wish No. 3: I want to fist-fight a fictional character — not just any character, Walter Peck from the movie “Ghostbusters.” I want to fight him. I want to fight him without rules. I want to fight him in a back-alley, the cops having been paid off to avoid the area, and the fight stops when a heart stops. The Ghostbusters were making the world safer from scary shit hiding in closets, and waking people out of peaceful sleep, with their undead fuckery. People are happy, the Ghostbusters are happy, so what’s the issue? Walter “The Duke of Dickless” Peck shows up, speaks to Dr. Venkman in that tone of voice that just screams “I’ve never pleasured a woman and I piss sitting down.” THEN, when everything goes to hell, he stands on bureaucracy, while all the scary shit the Ghostbusters busted roams New York City willy-nilly. The most pressing issue is stopping the scary shit and that has been accomplished. Now that we’re all safe from Poltergeist, Walter has a few things to answer for.
I’m curious, what would your wishes be? Let me know in the comments.
Thank you for joining me for this trip across the Millerverse; I’ll see you next time!
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Songs Listened to While Writing This Blog:
- “New Slang” – the Shins
- “Black Sun” – Death Cab for Cutie
- “Reptilia” – the Strokes
- “Longshot” – Catfish & the Bottlemen
A.P. Miller 