An Iddy Bitty Struggle


Less and Less, I See Death.
More and More, I See Transition and Travel...
I see Other Worlds...Other Times...Other Dimensions...Opening...


I saw these words scribbled on a small piece of paper sitting on the counter. I asked Doc what they meant.

"Oh, those...those are part of a story I'm working on. Just getting going on it."

"Really Doc, it sounds like a science-fiction plot!"

"You could say that," smiled Doc, as he picked up the piece of paper and shoved it in his pocket. "I'll share it with ya later...I'm thinking of setting it to music."

I began drinking my soda as Doc continued with his work.  Another great Saturday this is turning out to be. I pondered the first words of Doc's story...their meaning...wondering where he would be going with the whole thing?

"So how'd your first meeting go?" I asked Doc, wanting to break the silence.

"Pretty well I think," said Doc. "By the way, thanks for sending your friends my way."

"You bet. I like that rag-tag group of misfits," I said, "I'm one of them myself."

"You don't say?" Doc chuckled sarcastically. "And all this time I thought you were normal."

Taking a few more sips of my soda, I begin to reminisce about all my talks with Doc over the years, all the questions I would ask him, all the responses he would give...some straightforward, some cast as riddles...all the insights...all the laughs and good times.

"Hey Doc," I finally said after a long silence, "why do you think there's so much strife in the world?"

"Why do you ask?" he said.

"I was just thinking about our own world here on Earth...and the worlds you might be writing about in your story. Seems to be a lot of problems on this planet, with nuclear bombs and all. This year in school we've been studying the history of Western Civilization...and wars seem to be going on constantly. How come people can never get along...at least for very long anyway?"

"That does seem to be the case doesn't it?" said Doc.

"Yeah. Ya know our neighbors are talking about building a bomb shelter in their backyard. You think that's a good idea Doc?"

"I think when it comes to nuclear war, no bomb shelter is gonna help anyone, at least for very long," said Doc. "Besides, no fortified hideaway will protect you from your greatest enemy."

"What's that Doc?"

"Hey, how was the movie last week," said Doc, seeming to suddenly change the subject, which I was happy to comply with.

"It was great!" I said. "The special effects are the best...I like the sound effects too! And of course Robby the Robot is cool. I'd sure like to have him as a friend!"

"Yeah, Earl Holliman's character, Cookie, he sure enjoyed having Robbie as a friend! Doc laughed, as he slipped into character. "'Smooooth, and not a trace of hangover.' Sounds like my kind of hooch!"

"By the way, it was the id."

"What?"

"The id," I said, "that's the answer to the question you gave me last week. It was the id that destroyed the Krell."

"Very good genius," Doc smiled. "By the way, what's playing at the Paradise tonight?"

"An old black and white movie called Lost Horizon."

"Ahh, Frank Capra," said Doc. "Ya know that one's based on a book of the same name by James Hilton. Never read it though. I wonder if Hilton's book borrows from Milton's Paradise Lost. Never read that one either...sure would like to though...someday."

Doc rested his chin in his hands as he leaned onto the counter, staring off in the distance. I took a few more sips of my soda before interrupting Doc's daydream.

"Earth to Doc...Earth to Doc...come in Doc...do you read?"

"Yes, I read you Earth...I read you loud and clear." Doc radioed back. "Do you read me Earthling?"

"Yes, I read?" now giggling at our silliness.

"And what exactly are you reading now?" Doc asked in a more serious tone, as if to signal his ship's arrival and landing. "I would like to learn more about you Earthlings. What makes you tick? And where is this id I've heard you talk about? Is that the name of your leader?"

Not having a quick response, I paused to consider Doc's words. A few more sips of soda later and I slip out of character.


"So that's it, huh Doc?" I said, getting back to my original question. "It's our id that causes so much strife in the world?"

"Maybe something like that," thought Doc. "There does seem to be a lot of ego struggle in the world, and nothing spells ego better than id. There almost seems an addiction to id and all the things it brings...the struggle and strife, forever fighting, advancing and acquiring...a sort of predatory game or parasitical play. And yet, what is ultimately gained in this kind of living...winning king of the hill or being top of the pyramid?"

"Yeah Doc, but aren't we fighting for peace?" I asked.

"That's a good oxymoron."

"What planet does an oxymoron come from?" I grinned. "I may be one of them."

"Yes, my wise-ass," Doc laughed,  "Me too!" 

A short pause accompanied by a few more sips of the ol' soda got me thinking further along these lines.

"Doc, you think all the struggle is because the human race it out of balance...too focused on things that aren't that important...and not enough focused on things that are?"

As I was saying this, Doc headed back to the old cabinet and pulled two more books off the shelf. I immediately saw that one book was very old and the other brand new. He brought them back and set them down on the counter. My eyes transfixed on the old one first. It was bound in what looked like rusty-brown leather, and on its cover were written the words Tao Te Ching and nothing else. I was very curious about this, such foreign words on such an old book. What did they mean?

"Now, to get back to your question, this book here is a good place to start." said Doc, drawing my attention away from the old book by placing the new book in my hand.
I read its title aloud , "This Is It and Other Essays on Zen and Spiritual Experience...by Alan Watts." Then I said to Doc, "This book looks brand new, but I've never heard of this guy. Is he still alive?"

"Oh yes, he's still alive. But don't feel bad if you haven't heard of him. Not many people outside of certain academic circles have, except a few beats down the road."

"A few beats down the road?" I asked Doc.

"Yeah, a bunch of poets, artists and intellectual types not far from here. Don't feel bad if you haven't heard of them either. But these folks will get better known in years to come, especially in the counterculture movement."

"Counterculture movement?"

"Hey Mr. Questions, don't you have a movie to get to?" Doc said, calling me one of his favorite pet names.

"But what's a counterculture movement?"

"It starts when one or more people don't agree with the way of society, or the trend of the majority. So they revolt in some way, they drop out, they get lost, they try to find something else."

"What is it they find Doc?"

"They find their own way, or another way...eventually."

"What way is that."

"I can't answer that for you. But, you can find out for yourself. And reading one of these books is a good start. Which one shall it be?"

"For obvious reasons, it makes sense to start with this one," I said, reaching for the book by Watts. "I mean, This Is It?! With a title like that, this book must give some good direction at least, if not the answer itself."
"Can't argue with that reasoning kid," chuckled Doc.

"But I'm curious about the old one too. Can I borrow them both?"

"You know it. Now get goin'," said Doc. "I've got work to do."

I grabbed both books and yelled thanks to Doc as I ran out the drugstore. Then I stopped a few steps out the door, turned around and poked my head back in, tripping another ding of the bell.

"Hey Doc," I yelled towards the back, Doc already at work. "Will people get along better in the worlds you're writing about?"

"Go enjoy Lost Horizon!" Doc shouted back as he continued his work. "Now scram kid, ya bother me!"

Ding.