The Story of (Blank) Land
Far, far away from fires, floods,
earthquakes and the dreaded coronavirus that has upended our lives,
there’s a magic place that the five and half year old Nootch has fashioned for
herself.
I would like to reveal the
exact name and location of this paradise and super safe harbor. However in keeping
with 19th century concerns and literary protocols about privacy in novels and short stories and the young storyteller's trust in my discretion, I can only say that it’s called --------Land.
In this distant world- which
apparently holds “a hundred and thirty thousand people” according to the
Nootch, a kind of funny language is
spoken, and one in which the Nootch appears to be quite fluent. This strange
though lilting tongue sounds like a combo of Hungarian, Polish and Spanish, and a dialect with the occasionally trilled "r;" further, there are lots of vaguely
Eastern European sounds and constructions as well, along with other syllabic
formations that seem totally new and quite insensible. I’ve witnessed on screen
the Nootch having animated conversations with residents of this strange land on her toy, princess iphone. She even has volunteered to translate certain
words and sentences for me, when now and then I want to know how to say
something specific in ---------language.
The Nootch not only finds
solace in the mere existence of such a place along with many new friends there to keep her company during our sad, lockdown life, but she also has an
essential job: that of keeping everyone
in --------land absolutely safe. Yup,
she is in charge of that huge responsibility, and they pay her the incredible sum of
ten dollars for this! She instructs the
residents on how and where to hide from monsters, and she’s even “writing” a kind of manual
on colored cards with more specifics about the technique. She also assures-
just by the by- that there is absolutely no coronavirus in ---------land. It’s
just not there.
Her five year old innate
creativity is flourishing, keeping her safe, allowing her some control, and
showing how badly she misses our old, normal life, the one in which we see
friends, family, new things and places, the one where we have less worry about
breathing the air or being eaten by monsters. I think of a whole generation of
five year olds, and children younger, and older, who must be having similarly unusual
thoughts these days. . . .
What new, trendy, pigeon holing catchword will we
attach to these future generations?
How about the whole, damn
alphabet? The A to Zers and how they (and their parents and friends and families) survived this, both now
and in years to come.
