Zen Dreams and Jedi Passwords

Note:  I am writing this blog from Milwaukee, Wisconsin, prior to Becki's Dad undergoing a heart procedure at the hospital this afternoon.  Keep him in your prayers today, as I am sure he will need it.


Becki and I woke up early this morning and walked to a diner called Copper Kitchen about half a mile away from her twin's house.  The waitress there had actually heard of Lawrence, KS, and I ate French toast, two slices of bacon, two sausages, and two eggs over-easy for a mere $3.50.  It was delightful to say the least.  Of course, after all of that I might need my own heart procedure.  

***

The other night I awoke to the sound of Becki exclaiming "Don't do it!  Don't do it, don't do it!" in her sleep.

"Don't do what?"  I indulged her.  "What am I doing?"

"Greece," she said.  "You're... (mumbling) Greece."

"I'm going to Greece?"  More mumbling from Becki.  "And you don't want me to go there?  Am I going there without you or something?"

The next morning I asked her about our conversation in the dark, and she said she was telling me not to pour grease down the sink.  Clearly.  Grease belongs in the trash bin.  Everyone knows that.

Two days later - yesterday - our garbage disposal became clogged.  We left for Milwaukee with a pool of discolored water standing in the kitchen sink.  Perhaps Becki's dream and reality converged somehow.

***

When I was a child, my password was "Jedi."

If strangers ever offered to pick me up from school or take me for a ride or give me candy, I was supposed to ask "What's the password?"  If they said "Candy" or "Amber Alert," I knew to run the other way.  Because the password was "Jedi."  Of course, Becki and I joked this morning on our walk back from the Copper Kitchen that if a potential kidnapper ever did try to pick me up, the conversation would actually going something like this:

Kidnapper:  Hey kid!  Yeah, you!  Wanna' go for a ride in my van with no windows?

Chad (age 5):  My parents told me not to go for rides with strangers unless they know the password is "Jedi."

Kidnapper:  That's smart, kid.  Real smart.  Well, do you want to go for a ride?  The password is Jedi.

Chad:  Boy, do I ever!  Do you have some poisoned candy I could chew on?  Maybe a caramel chew with a razor blade in it?

And then I would appear on the back of a milk carton and, 10 years later in Soul Asylum's "Runaway Train" video, and my parents would wonder how any kidnapper could have possibly gotten past the password test.

Bob and Holly Johnston on the Nightly News:  He had a password.  I don't know how anyone could have guessed it.  It's 1983, after all.  The year George Lucas released Return of the Jedi.  The year when Jedi memorabilia and merchandising were out of control.  I sure don't know how anyone could have guessed that. Want a Jedi Danish butter cookie?