I’m going to take a shot in the dark, to start off this post.
That’s one of our cats, Oscar. I wasn’t sure whether I had him in frame, as I was taking that shot.
Last night, my boyfriend Michael told me that my son, Aaron, had shot this at him, darkly: “I’m not feeling that great. I think I might be getting sick.”
I’m going to take a shot in the dark, right now, and guess that Aaron is going to ask to stay home from school, after he wakes up, soon, in the less-dark morning.
Yesterday, it was dark during the afternoon. I took a shot at one of these, in the cafeteria in the hospital where I work:
I’ve never seen that kind of shot before, have you?
(image found here)
Actually, when I was talking to my parents’ friend, Abe, in 1967, I thought I was having a conversation with him about a different movie, which I had just seen.
(image found here)
Wait Until Dark — starring Audrey Hepburn and Alan Arkin (whom I had never seen before that film) — scared the bejeesus out of me. Soon after I saw it, when I was talking to Abe, I asked him what he thought of that movie.
Or, I THOUGHT I was asking Abe what he thought of that movie.
Abe’s response really surprised me. I expected him to say, “That movie scared the bejeesus out of me!” (or words to that effect). Instead, Abe, got a big smile on his face and said,
That movie was hilarious! What a FUNNY movie! I couldn’t stop laughing.
… or words to that effect.
I’m going to take a shot in the dark here: I assume I’m not the only one who has been communicating with somebody and then has this thought:
WHAT?!? That’s not the reaction I expected! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE???? Is one of us crazy? Is it me??!??
I didn’t know what to say to Abe. I took a shot in the dark, back then, with this response:
Well … I guess the plot was … sort of far-fetched … I suppose.
And I got out of that conversation as soon as possible.
Would anybody like to take a shot in the dark about why I’m writing about this, now?
In case you don’t want to take a shot at that question, I’ll tell you. After I had that conversation with Abe, and as I tried to make meaning of that encounter in my mind, I realized what had happened.
Instead of asking Abe this question, “Did you see Wait Until Dark?” I realized that I had asked my parents’ old friend, “Did you see A Shot In The Dark?”
I was horrified. And that feeling lasted a lot longer than my scared reaction to Wait Until Dark.
For YEARS I felt bad about that encounter. Every time I thought about it, I’d cringe.
Personally, I find that a lot scarier than any scary movie. Why, oh why, did I spend so much time worrying about that simple mistake? A mistake I made when I WAS ONLY THIRTEEN* YEARS OLD?!!!?
I’m going to take some shots in the dark, now, about why I felt shot, so painfully and frequently, by that memory.
- I don’t like to make mistakes.
- I really, really, really, really don’t like miscommunication.
I just checked in with my son, who is waking up. He didn’t say anything about feeling bad or about staying home from school today. Another mistake on my part! I’m so glad I’ve learned to forgive myself, so much better, these days.
What other shots did i want to take in this post today?
Afterwards, I took these shots in the dark:
I’ve read lots of great quotes by Audrey Hepburn, who was terrorized (and almost shot?) by Alan Arkin in “Wait Until Dark.” Let’s give Audrey Hepburn this parting shot:
Pick the day. Enjoy it – to the hilt. The day as it comes. People as they come… The past, I think, has helped me appreciate the present – and I don’t want to spoil any of it by fretting about the future.
And, before I publish these shots in the dark, how about some music?
(Theme song from “A Shot in the Dark,” by Henry Mancini, found here on YouTube)
Hmmmm. While it was fun hearing and seeing the opening shots from A Shot in the Dark, here’s the musical shot (also by Henry Mancini) I really want here and now.
(Youtube video of Pink Panther Theme found here)
Thanks to Abe, Peter Sellers, Elke Sommer, Audrey Hepburn, Alan Alda (oooops! Alan Arkin!), Henry Mancini, my son, people who work in groups, and to you — of course! — for taking a shot at this post, today.
* I was actually 14 years old in ’67, but who’s counting?