We've all had them. Those moments in life where the world gets so weird, so surreal, that the only thing you can do is sit back and take it all in.
My moment of surreal zen came a few months ago. I had just finished moving a few boxes of personal things out of my parents' home, when I decided to take a short break. I put on some coffee and helped myself to a few oat cakes. I rarely watch TV (I don't own one of my own - the computer is enough for me), but since there's not much else to do at my parents' home, I decided I'd flip through the channels to see what was on.
The sports channel sucks.
The History channel was showing a film I'd seen before.
CNN is for the plebs.
I continued to advance through the various channels. A distinctive noise indicated that my coffee was ready to pour. I left the rec room and went into the kitchen, poured my coffee, and helped myself to another oat cake.
I returned to the rec room - it had the most comfortable chair in the house, after all. I had left the TV on a random channel when I got up to get my coffee. I came back into the room, looked at the TV, and stopped.
I had found the Home Shopping Network. All product showcases and silly marketing tricks. All the time.
I would normally have turned off the TV or changed the channel. I don't like commercials. Especially infomercials. Especially ones trying to flog stupid crap products nobody wants, just so they can slap a "As Seen on TV" sticker on the box when it comes on sale at Wal-Mart.
But I didn't, only because I caught a glimpse of what they were selling. It was a grill of some sort. On it the people were making miniature pizzas. Pizza is my favourite food, you see. I love the stuff in almost any form - home made, store bought, frozen, vegetarian, all meat, etc. I love making it myself, too. SO I kept it on to see if I could learn any new techniques in pizza making.
I thought that the voices of one of the people selling the product sounded very familiar. I couldn't quite place it, though, Yet I knew I'd heard the man before. From his hands - all that was showing - I could see that he was of African heritage. Most likely American by birth.
Then the camera began to pan out.
There, on the Home Shopping Network, was one of my childhood heroes. Mr. T from the A-Team. The meanest, toughest, most badassed dude to ever sport a mohawk hair cut.
There, on the Home Shopping Channel, was Mr. T making miniature pizzas.
Mr. T (left) and miniature pizzas.
I did an honest double take. Was I dreaming? Had I fallen asleep, worn out from moving my boxes of stuff all day? No.
Was I hallucinating? Had the oat cakes gone bad, and caused this?
Was this some sort of "Special" coffee my mom had left infused with her drug of choice from the 1960's? Nah....Mom's not like that. And the oat cakes were made the day before by Mom, knowing I'd be over.
My brain just couldn't process the weirdness of what my eyes were seeing. I looked again, and sure enough it was indeed Mr. T making miniature pizzas on the Home Shopping Network. Finally deciding that I wasn't hallucinating or dreaming, my brain accepted what it saw. I did the only thing a sane man could possibly have done in that situation
I sat back, enjoyed my coffee, and just took it all in.
My moment of surreal zen came a few months ago. I had just finished moving a few boxes of personal things out of my parents' home, when I decided to take a short break. I put on some coffee and helped myself to a few oat cakes. I rarely watch TV (I don't own one of my own - the computer is enough for me), but since there's not much else to do at my parents' home, I decided I'd flip through the channels to see what was on.
The sports channel sucks.
The History channel was showing a film I'd seen before.
CNN is for the plebs.
I continued to advance through the various channels. A distinctive noise indicated that my coffee was ready to pour. I left the rec room and went into the kitchen, poured my coffee, and helped myself to another oat cake.
I returned to the rec room - it had the most comfortable chair in the house, after all. I had left the TV on a random channel when I got up to get my coffee. I came back into the room, looked at the TV, and stopped.
I had found the Home Shopping Network. All product showcases and silly marketing tricks. All the time.
I would normally have turned off the TV or changed the channel. I don't like commercials. Especially infomercials. Especially ones trying to flog stupid crap products nobody wants, just so they can slap a "As Seen on TV" sticker on the box when it comes on sale at Wal-Mart.
But I didn't, only because I caught a glimpse of what they were selling. It was a grill of some sort. On it the people were making miniature pizzas. Pizza is my favourite food, you see. I love the stuff in almost any form - home made, store bought, frozen, vegetarian, all meat, etc. I love making it myself, too. SO I kept it on to see if I could learn any new techniques in pizza making.
I thought that the voices of one of the people selling the product sounded very familiar. I couldn't quite place it, though, Yet I knew I'd heard the man before. From his hands - all that was showing - I could see that he was of African heritage. Most likely American by birth.
Then the camera began to pan out.
There, on the Home Shopping Network, was one of my childhood heroes. Mr. T from the A-Team. The meanest, toughest, most badassed dude to ever sport a mohawk hair cut.
There, on the Home Shopping Channel, was Mr. T making miniature pizzas.
Mr. T (left) and miniature pizzas.
I did an honest double take. Was I dreaming? Had I fallen asleep, worn out from moving my boxes of stuff all day? No.
Was I hallucinating? Had the oat cakes gone bad, and caused this?
Was this some sort of "Special" coffee my mom had left infused with her drug of choice from the 1960's? Nah....Mom's not like that. And the oat cakes were made the day before by Mom, knowing I'd be over.
My brain just couldn't process the weirdness of what my eyes were seeing. I looked again, and sure enough it was indeed Mr. T making miniature pizzas on the Home Shopping Network. Finally deciding that I wasn't hallucinating or dreaming, my brain accepted what it saw. I did the only thing a sane man could possibly have done in that situation
I sat back, enjoyed my coffee, and just took it all in.