“No Accidents In Art”

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My friend Doyle told me that, back in 2002, when we were both living in the paramilitary, Winter Olympics-hosting state of
Utah. Doyle was referring specifically to the statue of Brigham Young that stands out in front of

Temple Square

. “Notice how his back is to the church, and his open hand is stretched out towards
Zion’s Bank? I’m telling you Scotty, there are no accidents in Art. No coincidences.”

I have extended the saying to apply to more than just an edifice of someone else’s hobgoblin. I know that if you slow down enough, or speed up just a little, you can catch on to the veins of coincidences that run through Art like the blood source that it is.

The other day I put an Ozzy CD on the surround system in the living room, and went to make some noodles for lunch. When I was done I sat done at the table in the living room and turned the TV on. There was no sound, since the CD was cranked up, but I wasn’t in the mood to listen to the TV anyway. I just hate to eat alone. I was flipping through the channels, mindlessly surfing the waves of tawdry tedium, when a moment of synchronicity occurred– just as the song “Perry Mason” came on, the channel guide scrolled over a rerun of the TV show “Perry Mason”!

I watched as the Case of the Garrulous Gambler unfolded to the sounds of Ozzy Osbourne; himself a former denizen of the Hell that is daytime TV. There was a scene where the gambler is joined out on the deck of his beach house by a leggy brunette who I thought was a young Julie Newmar. Meow!

Only, it wasn’t the future Catwoman. So I decided to check IMDB.com to see who this enchantress was. Turns out the role of “Doris Shackley” was played by Paula Raymond, nee Paula Wright, granddaughter of Farnsworth Wright, the former editor of “Weird Tales.”

I am going to have to sit down and compile two lists: one of Weird Tales story titles, the other of Ozzy Osbourne song titles. Then make a guessing game out of it.

That story is about a little coincidence that happened in Art. I was merely an eyewitness to that non-accident. Today, I was behind the wheel as the semi hauling someone else’s Art hit me head on as I was walking down the street with my Art. Even though it was only a metaphoric crash, I should have become highly suspicious; as there are no accidents. Of course, it was the only course of action that could get my attention.

I was walking home from the library where I had picked up a couple movies and CD’s. One of the movies was “Starman” with Jeff Bridges and Karen Allen. I hadn’t seen it in years, and figured since it involved aliens I could watch it under the guise of ‘research’ for my book. Researching my decades-old crush on Karen Allen would be more accurate. I pulled out the case as I walked home and started to read the blurb on the back cover of the DVD.

That’s when it all hit me. When I was mapping out my book, my Muse had mentioned a possible location for my hero and heroine to rendezvous at: The Barringer Crater in
Arizona. The same crater Starman and Jenny Hayden headed off to in “Starman.”

I was crestfallen– now, after months of neglect, I was working on the book again, only to realize it was in need of a complete overhaul! Of course, I can always have them meet under the statue of Brigham Young, dodging pigeon shit as they get ushered off of

Temple Square

for their lustful activities…

….fuck it, they’re going to the crater in
Arizona. That ending worked for John Carpenter in “Starman,” I’m pretty confident it’ll work for me.

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