So, remembering that it's fairly easy to blow yourself up if you light a match in your house if the gas is broken and been leaking and not remembering if the same rule applied if the oil fumes had invaded your living room, I lit the match... and in that split second before you make the decision to do something that might kill you, like jumping off a 70 foot cliff in Greece in the dark blue Aegean, flooring the Porsche on the windy part of the 10 on the way to Palm Springs when you know you have a nail in your tire, seeing if you can go 160 MPH anyway, shooting an extra big shot of heroin, or any of the other bizarre choices I've made that illicit that feeling of "this might be the last breath I take," my heart stopped and everything became crystal clear, present and everything all at once... AAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!

Nothing happened.

I guess it's only with gas, or I got lucky. All I know is the match lit without incident and I set the fire ablaze.

I called the oil company and they sent the guy over. They said he'd be there in an hour, by 8 and might have to stay for 3 hours to fix the problem. That was fine, the snow had started falling and by morning it would be hard to make it up my driveway which is steep and would be covered by a foot of snow. He had to come now.

The timing annoyed me because American Idol was going to be on at 8 and I like to have my privacy since I usually cry at some point of the show.

This night was no different. With Mark, the friendly oil man in the basement trying to fix the problem, I sat trying to cry as quietly as I could, listening like a hawk for his footsteps up the ladder in case I had to shut it down fast.

There was a sweet 18 year-old gay kid whose mother had never told him she loved him until he called that night with the news he had made it through to the next round. He was so happy to hear her say it this once. Just hearing it seemed to trump all the hurt from the years he had waited for those three words from her and never got them. They didn't, in contrast to never having heard them, make him angry. He was just overjoyed to hear his mom tell him that she loved him.

I was blubbering. My mom does and always has told me she loved me, though when I was younger and it was much more strained between us, she said it less often and even with her saying it, I've held a deep fear that neither she nor my father really wanted or really did love me. But I know they did and do. Still, anything between fathers and sons, mothers and sons, daughters and fathers, daughters and mothers, so yeah, pretty much anything between kids and parents has me welling up pretty fast.

"You're gonna be sleeping next to the fireplace tonight, I'm afraid," Mark said in his thick New England accent. I had heard him coming so I was able to compose myself in time.

"You can't fix it?"

"Nope. I'll have to replace the power venter. It's clogged. That's why the fumes are backing up into the house. I have too many calls tonight."

"You gonna be able to make it up my hill in the morning?"

"I'll have to. Or you can come get me at the bottom in your truck."

"Okay. Give me a call when you're ready to come."

"Okay, it'll be around 9 probably."

The house was already fucking cold. Since it was snowing it wasn't gonna drop too low but still, it was windy and on the top of a mountain and all night long. I was kind of excited though. I like when things don't work perfectly. It reminds me of a time when you couldn't just get everything you want all the time so easily. It's why I like traveling to third world countries. I'm so fast all the time I appreciate anything that slows me down or takes me out of my routine and forces me to be more present because it's an unusual situation that requires me to pay attention or problem solve in a new way.

Growing up in Vermont was the same every night anyway. My dad wouldn't turn on any heat and used a big Ashley wood burning stove to heat the entire house. In the middle of the night it would burn out and off in the bedrooms you could see your breath. We had electric blankets though thank God.

I flashed on the mental image of the old fashioned cartoon of a man going to bed in long johns and a cap and realized it was just a proper olden time way to bed. I put on a skull cap I use to work out in and my long johns and a couple shirts and buried myself under the comforter. It was excellent.

The town plowed my road about an hour before Mark showed up the next morning and he had the heat working inside of two hours. It was 1 o'clock and 14 inches were on the ground already, another 10 on the way and it was snowing hard. I go skiing once or twice a year. I like to go for a couple hours and that's it. If I was going to go this year, today would be the day. It was a Wednesday and the mountain would be empty with nothing but two feet of powder in it... and me.

I dug out my rented Exterra and cautiously made my way down my hill to the main road and set out for Bromley.

I rented some skis and boots and headed to the chair lift. There were maybe ten people on the whole hill, no one at the lift. It was blizzarding, windy, freezing and amazing. Deep, thick, snow everywhere drifting up to four feet it was so windy. I rode up the lift, the hum of the cable serenading me in harmony with the quiet fierce silence of white fog and the dreamy white falling all around me. This was a dream.

I stood on the top of the mountain. Alive. Cold wind on my nose. Toes already numb, feeling everything. Seeing everything. The pine trees heavy with snow. The snow heavy with snow, my blue Elmer Fudd hat heavy with snow. And as always in these moments, when I'm moved to tears feeling the presence of my creator, knowing I am part of the earth that made me, feeling so small in the presence of the power of the universe yet knowing like every living creature I am an angel standing on a billion planets at once able to help everyone everywhere, like Casavettes in Masursky's Tempest I screamed out as loud as I could, "SHOW ME THE MAGIC BABY!!!!! SHOW ME THE MAGIC!!!!" If you've seen the movie you might have tears in your eyes now. If you haven't, you need to see it now. And forever, you'll scream with us "SHOW ME THE MAGIC BABY!!!! SHOW ME THE MAGIC!!!!" And know that he is God. Know that you are God.

Posted by Eric Schaeffer at 7:00 AM

Print Friendly · Digg it · del.icio.us · StumbleUpon · Netscape