„exceptio probat regulam in casibus non exceptis“ — especially when applied to Expats in Basel.
«It’s a very rare person who is taken for what he truly is.» – Schmendrick the Magician. (Bild: Artwork by: Topcraft. A still from the movie )
Dear Auntie SAM: Why you, & not me ?
The first day I reconnected with someone from elementary school on social media, he told me he had admired me since second grade when, in our small town of near-Amish & other Believers, I asserted there was no God; rather many, & I was currently interested in Zeus.
Your Auntie remembers these days … she remembers their Truths: The isolation she felt in that school. The admiration or fear. The power. The confusions that led to more confusions. More isolation. It was fear. Then no power.
Such is life beyond the footlights. Footlights are not meant for Truths…
Much like many girls, your Auntie dreamt the rest of her childhood days striving to be good enough for a beautiful, white unicorn to rest its head upon her tender lap. Friends & shunned boyfriends used to tease: «What are you waiting for? A prince?»
Noo …
Girls hold themselves out as something special in the hopes that someone equally special will greet them. Will meet them. Will be. And let be. Even, thrive. Such a magnificent dream.
Three thousand years ago – or however long – your Auntie would never have guessed she would have had to rest upon the outskirts of the Black Forest to meet her unicorn. Her long-forgotten virgin heart never would have guessed what she’d have to do to solicit that innocent mare.
She could have sipped tea everlasting & dined upon Black Forest cake until her teeth rot. She could have danced lilting along the edges of one fierce bubble that would never let her in. She could have cried … wept … seduced the gods of vengeance … before she ever could have suspected that she’d be the fabled one-horned horse who would appear to greet her. To meet her. To be & let her be. Possibly thrive.
At a huge round table in an unremarkable chain pub on the outskirts of Seattle, your Auntie & two women met for the first time to discuss moving to Switzerland for our husbands’ careers. The other women asserted they would never consider leaving their careers. That they fully intended to work in Basel. Your Auntie, believing then that this continental shift had little to do with her, said: «No. I have no intention of working. Our agreement is I leave that behind.»
Once again: astonished eyes let everyone know who was the pariah. Even though, quite the opposite – for all of us – came true.
You & I have been through too much, Darling. We mustn’t be precious about our pasts. Your Auntie’s first show sold 900 tickets in a 400 person capacity venue. She’s been called «Basel’s Kultur Maker». «The Expat Expert». «A Force of Nature». «Jeff van Phil’s Drag Mother». And many other names decidedly less savoury …
Now that her entry’s blaze has subsided, Dear Reader, let’s sit on the edge of the Black Forest with the sweetest nomenclature: «The Unicorn Expat».
«She was magical … beyond belief … and completely alone …»
Every now & again one stellar person rises to the top. The Gemeinde raises them. Friends rejoice. Foes recoil. Yet everyone agrees: that person’s special.
Is that True?
Once an old hag performed parlour tricks – she let humans believe magical creatures resided among them. She cultivated a very bad reputation because her misunderstood soul understood: «These days, it takes a cheap carnival witch to make folks recognise a real unicorn.»
When a unicorn stays in her forest, no living creature dies. When she leaves: they crumble like dust.
The unicorn, being ageless, cares not. Doubts not. Cannot care about most temporal things – or, more accurately: immortals can care, but why would they?
The only fear unicorns experience, according to the fairytale about the supposed last, is being alone.
«Am I the only one?», the unicorn cried.
( … everyone says I am … )
«No. You can find your people if you are brave.»
Being told you are special, Darling, translates to: you are not like us.
Why Me? Not You?
Because whomever I am doesn’t appear on upon most people’s radar without a little bit of magic. Whomever I am is here to inspire, entice, cajole …
And starting next week, my fellow unicorns are going to join me. Because: Yes: Why Me? And Not You …?
XO
AS
_
Dedicated to the memory of Dr. Olfert Dapper, who saw a wild unicorn in the Maine woods in 1673, and for Robert Nathan, who has seen one or two in Los Angeles.