For the love of Urban Legends
I’m not sure when it began. It could be when that cruel cruel older girl blurted out her thoughts on that Santa fellow and my life as I knew it was shattered for a while. Or really, I think it actually began with the cookie recipe. I don’t know if it was the fact that it was a great recipe for cookies or the idea of one person “sticking it to” the big bad corporation, but that Neiman Marcus Cookie story had me. You know the famous “you had me at hello” speech? The movie of my life would have the line, “you had me at grated Hershey bar…” If you are clueless so far… you can find the recipe here… http://urbanlegends.about.com/library/blbyol19.htm
Whatever it was, I loved loved loved the recipe, the story, the idea. I made and froze the 200-gazillion cookies. I copied the story and the recipe for anyone I thought would ever want it, who would stand up like Norma Ray, pump their arms in the air, and yell for the rights of the worker, the regular guy. (I am talking about the right Ray person right? Norma Ray= Sally Field character…Martha Ray= woman with the big mouth right? Either way, you know what I am talking about.) The idea was romantic, fabulous. And then my friend one day, out of nowhere, ate one of the cookies, laughed and said in an off-handed sort of way, “You know this is an urban legend”.
I have often caught myself walking down the hall, the mall, the street, whatever, imagining a certain soundtrack of my life. At that moment, I would add some rockin’ music as we ate cookies and then quickly, timed so well, add the sound of the scratching of a record as the music abruptly comes to an end. Yeah, it was that dramatic. Call it naiveté, call it stupidity, I don’t know what it was, but I felt it was dramatic.
I couldn’t even imagine it would be anything other than the truth.
Thinking back on it now, it shouldn't have been such a shock to me. I should have known all about urban legends and myths. I was truly the subject of several legends/ myths going around my dad’s circle of friends and co-workers. He used to travel, making speeches about the tragedy of teenagers and middle school. He used to make up stories that fit the subject at hand, and of course they would be all about me. None of them were true, mind you, but they were all great stories. So great in fact, that years later, people from these workshops would meet me and happily try to reminisce with me with one story or another of me and my childhood. Finally, I couldn’t help it. One day I just quietly said, “You know, that really didn’t happen.” Yes, you can add the same record scratch sound effect if you wish, thank you.
I never thought about it till now, how I was the evildoer who burst the bubble of some unsuspecting naive person too.
So, it was either the fact that I was the subject of erroneous anecdotes, or that my life came to a screeching halt one day with something we now call “the cookie incident,” but something changed in me.
I became obsessed with urban legends. I love them now. I follow them, read about them, learn about them, study them, send the snopes website to anyone who insists on sending them to me via email. I have a fascination with them. I always wondered where they came from. Could anyone in the world just make one up and have it travel to worlds beyond? Could I one day, be in the grocery store and overhear someone talking about the urban legend that I made up? OH, I think I MUST create a very good urban legend. And of course, I won’t tell you guys what it is… that would burst your bubble now wouldn’t it? You will just always have to wonder. Until then… I am composing an email right now about a friend of a friend of a cousin of a brother who knew a guy who used to have his own soundtrack in life… I will have to work on it but it will be huge, I tell you! Huge!
For any check on an urban legend:
http://www.snopes.com (it is the best!)
