When we lived in a quiet “In town” neighborhood in Atlanta, I used to walk quite a bit. I walked to the grocery store, which we called the Korean Market. How racist. And I walked just to walk.
A few years prior, after my job at the Ad Agency ended, I became a pet sitter, going from house to house, looking after peoples’ dogs and cats. I was attacked by a dog during one of these visits, and needless-to-say, I halted my job as a pet sitter. Why should I do this for money?
Therefore, my leisurely neighborhood walking excursions were filled with the fear of being attacked again. Around every bush, there could be a dog just waiting to attack me. And that fear bred more fear, because after all, don’t dogs sense fear?
I was leafing through a magazine one day and found an ad for a device a person could carry. It would emit sounds undetectable to humans (of course) and dogs would be repelled. It was perfect for mailmen, the ad said. And those on business having to come to unfamiliar houses.
Perfect! I would order this gray pancake-like item with little sound wave grooves on the end of it. And a button to push when a dog was near.
I carried it around on my walks. Still a little fearful. And also aware I was probably being duped. But hey, I had my gray dog repellent device and, if a boxer came near me, I would aim.
Whether it worked or not did not matter. Because I never had to use that thing. The other day, years after I had purchased this mysterious gray piece of plastic, I was cleaning out a drawer. I looked at it and with a little embarrassment, put it back in the drawer.
Belief in a dog repellent? Just like those round green termite traps that lie in our yards. Or the one inch square cut piece of sheet I own that Paul McCartney supposedly slept on at the Plaza Hotel. Or how do you know there is really a star out there with your name on it? Belief. Praying on love, fear or desire. It’s part of our psyche to want magic.
Your insights bring a light to my life. You tend to touch on things that I think we all feel, and raise questions about how we react to the world. We do need belief, but isn’t it strange how flimsy a thing belief is, so easy to gain or lose, under the right circumstances.
On the dog repellent, LD#2 said to me the other day, “What happened to that invention that repels teenagers.” I’ve just looked it up and it went to court and was ruled agaist Human Rights – it emits a high pitched noise irritating to teenagers and young people, and has been very popular here in stopping youths from hanging round shops etc. where such congregation is unwelcome.
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I like what you said about belief. And how flimsy it can be. But how we need to cling to something. And thanks for the nice compliment about my insights bringing light.
How strange it is that your country devised the same method of keeping teenagers away! I find it fascinating that this means was just ruled “unconstitutional” (as we say here) at the exact time I wrote that post. Thank you, Denise!
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Sheet? Paul McCartney? How much more magical can that be?! My only claim to fame as far as the Fab Four are concerned is that I worked for years with a girl (slightly older than me)who used to regularly go to the Cavern Club. She kept her membership card forever – because the signatures of all the Beatles were on the back. She brought it inti work one day and I held it. That was my magic moment 🙂
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How cool your coworker went to the Cavern! I am reading an oral history of the Beatles. And I am reading about that club! Yes, I picked the sheet square of the Beatle who had the most longevity in life and fame! Now the old guy wouldn’t want to have anyone have his sheets!!!!
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I know – she was/is a Liverpool gal. We’re still friends. She took me on a tour of Liverpool once so I’ve seen the Cavern, as well as both cathedrals which are absolutely stunning. We should have been working actually but she decided I needed educating!
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🙂
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Okay, I have to know, Hollis, how did you come about owning a piece of sheet supposedly slept on by Paul McCartney? This sounds like it could be a good story. 🙂
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Well, Jill, there was an ad somewhere and I was little and making trips to the mailbox (can you believe it?) down the street. I sent off for what was supposed to be the very sheet Paul slept on. I could have chosen Ringo, John or George, but read what I told Jenny, if you want! Anyway, back came a crumbled inch square of white sheet cut with pinking shears. And some verification letter stapled to it. I think I paid 5 dollars for it. I was in Heaven!
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Ha ha! What a great story, Hollis! 🙂
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