In the beginning,” I thought, what an interesting theme Sidey proposed for us this week, and since I have seen next week’s (I guess I’m a week behind), I didn’t want to let this one go. . . I have some favorite opening lines, and it would be a kick to combine them all into one story, so I’m going to give it a try, even though it might be a dismal failure, at least it will send me scurrying through some of my favorite books in order to quote them exactly, so, here goes:
“As It Was In The Beginning”
Call me Ishmael. After all, that is my name. I was awakened many times last night with lines coming and going through my mind, and I realized that i was having a dream. For instance, last night I dreamed I went to Manderlay again. You must understand that once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo. All this happened, more or less. But I do swear to you the veracity of what I am telling you. You must listen carefully, and read carefully (aloud) until you understand completely the gist of my story.
I know right now that you are wondering, what on earth a moocow could have to do with Ishmael and Manderlay, but they are all intricately entwined in the great fabric of novelistic time. You must remember that because of Hey! Diddle-diddle! The cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon, for a long time, I went to bed early, I always have, and first line or last, it has always served me well. You see, I have missed all thee amazing moments. I always have, and first line or last, it has always worked out for me. The moment one learns English, complications set in. But, I asked myself, when exactly was the moment that I learned English? Perhaps I have not learned it at all, therefore, Hey, diddle diddle might mean something I did not intend. Problems could indeed ensue!
Granted: I am an inmate of a mental hospital; my keeper is watching me, he never lets me out of his sight; there’s a peephole in the door, and my keeper’s eye is the shade of brown that can never see through a blue-eyed type like me. Therefore, the moocow cannot be seen through either, because my moocow has blue eyes. My moocow can have whatever color eyes I choose. In almost the same way, There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it. But not quite as much as Moocow. Because moocow really does deserve to be seen. She is beautiful. Perhaps she is a transgender cow. Moocow sounds so masculine, but if you were to see moocow, I defy you to tell me his or her original gender. It doesn’t matter anyway, Moocow jumped over the moon. Few of you could say that.
We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall. You understand, Elmer Gantry was drunk. Perhaps being drunk and being dead could be equated, but I have never understood it that way, otherwise I would balk at sleeping.
I have yet to tell you about moocow, but he is worthy of more than i can tell you here. Just remember when you say “Good Night Moon,” that you are also communicating with Moocow. Moocow deserves a book. Ishmaels like I am are not worth much more than telling the tales, and being survivors, which one must admit is not a bad thing at all.
One thing I know: every beginning is the start of an ending, and vice versa. So I close my beginnings with the ending of another
The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all the saints. Amen.
Someday to be a great opening line: “I wish you all enough. . .”
(You are invited to pick out the famous opening lines, and the one closer. Let me know how you do with it. . .)