Take On Me: A Fairy Tale of New York

Do you remember the amazing music video from 1985 for that a-ha song, "Take on Me?" A girl reads a comic book in a Generic Diner. The comic book comes to life and she is pulled into Comic Book World by the beautiful Norwegian boy with the knife-blade cheekbones. Danger and Scariness ensue as they are pursued by Bad Men. The girl helps the boy escape from the Bad Men and then from Comic Book World after a whole lot of Speed-Raceresque villainy, and they live happily ever after in Diner World, the end.

Most people live in Diner World their whole lives. I'm fortunate (or maybe unfortunate, depending on your point of view)to be able to navigate the membrane between both worlds.

Because I am what you might call "unconventional" in a very specific area of my life (well, at least compared to 99 percent of the population), I accept that Comic Book World is where I belong. I know that Comic Book World is where I am safest.

I know the laws of the land in Comic Book World. Everyone is welcome to visit me here, but in general, most people are happy to buy the E-ticket, ride the big rides, pretend to be daring by throwing their arms up in the air while being safely held in place by a padded yoke around their necks, and at the end of the day, they go back to Diner World with their worldview intact.

I don't encourage overnight visitors to Comic Book World. Nighttime is when things rustle in the undergrowth and slouch out of the shadows with dripping teeth and bloody claws.

Look, I emigrated to Comic Book World. It's my choice to live here. In general, I really like it here. I have dominion over the drooling shadow creatures here. While I haven't exactly domesticated them, I do know how to keep them subdued with my calm and assertive presence. The chair and the whip help.

Every now and then, however, I'll put my hand through the membrane into Diner World to test the temperature, and someone will come along and snatch me through it. When that happens, I'm like a newborn panda, naked, hairless, and blind. I lay gasping on the floor, trying to get my bearings and reaching out for someone to help me to my feet. I alight there for awhile, wobbly-legged, ever watchful and ready to bolt.

I don't bring everything I have into Diner World. I leave the Most Important Thing behind, to be safeguarded by the toothiest creature.

Usually the ones pulling me out into Diner World are just my friends. They live in Diner World, and I'm happy to join them there. And I think they're happy when I do emerge every so often. I believe it may be because they truly love me and worry that the creatures on the other side will someday snap and devour me.

Sometimes, however, I am hasty and forgetful, and the Important Thing is in my hands when I go through the membrane. I'm always a little dismayed when this happens and I look around for someone I can trust.

Here, I say, hold this. I hand the Important Thing to the most trustworthy-looking person.

Be careful, I say, that's fragile. Don't drop it.

But the citizens of Diner World just don't know how to hold on to the Important Thing. How could I expect them to know this? Of course they think because it is protected by monsters in Comic Book World that it can't be harmed in Diner World. In this, they are wrong, and they will, inevitably, drop the Important Thing.

Though dismayed, I am forgiving. I carefully sweep up the shards of the Important Thing and hold them protectively close to my body.

I say, I have to take this back. You don't have the proper tools to repair this. I begin to slide back into Comic Book World.

Will you be okay there? He always asks. Can you fix it?

I tell him not to worry, that the creatures and I understand each other. As I'm sliding back through the membrane, I can feel his worried eyes on my back, so to reassure him once I'm through, I always turn and give him a cheery wave and my biggest, brightest smile. Then, squaring my shoulders, I disappear back into the thickets of Comic Book World, with my hand on the shoulder of the drooliest, scariest beast, who is calm under my fingers and looks up at me with something approaching adoration.

He will help me to repair the Most Important Thing.