“Are you ‘safe’ . . . ?”

clinical psychosis: when the defense mech’s are up, in a “locked” position, keeping the person safe from themself.
1.)  Now, I knew all this “it’ll be worth something someday” bullshit wasn’t going to go anywhere: news of collectors paying an arm & a leg for some Mickey Mouse alarm clock from 1942 didn’t apply (à la “a winning Lottery ticket you didn’t even know you have”) to opened packages of Star Wars toys, worth nothing, played with, far from “Mint,” and produced by the millions for kids like myself who needed transitional objects.

NONETHELESS: When Bantha Tracks, the quarterly newsletter true-blue Star Wars fans subscribed to, made it known that George Lucas had made an error (Jedis don’t get “revenge,” he decided — and, yeah, as an 11-year-old, I thought it weird he didn’t know that, at first!), and, as it happened, a collectable was born: a real bona-fide one (as my amateur/tentative studies in Philately had shown me), since, as everyone with a clue (not eager-beaver suburbanite urban-legend wholesale-swallowers) knows, a “fuck up” is rarer, and, therefore, potentially valuable.

So, I told my parents.

“They’re making Revenge of the Jedi posters available for $10,” I mentioned at dinner one night, say (or whenever-it-was I brought it up).  I explained it would be worth something someday in all likelihood (it turned out to fetch $300 on eBay when I checked a few years ago — a lot less than you’d think, but, I guess it goes to show: who knows?), so, we’d be well off to buy one.  (ahem.)  Especially since what I had for what passed as ma mère seemed to want to crow about how my worn-down Tusken Raiders doll (say), which cost all of $3.75 (more expensive at a non-Toys ‘R Us store) could, potentially, pay the mortgage once I was out of college (say).

“Great idea!” they didn’t know enough not to say.

2.)  “Wouldn’t two be a better investment?” they decided-slash-realized at another dinner (say).  (Contingent upon my memory of whenever-it-was.)

3.)  “Oh, but … ” (time had passed, the subject came up again, like somebody else had changed it on them) ” … $20 is a lot of money.”  (pause.)  “That’s too much.”  (pause.)

They didn’t order them.
MORAL:  What was I supposed to do?  Hit them?

“How’d that cart get there?  Did we put it there?  Are we the horse?  Oh, well … let’s follow it!”


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