You're just never sure what things will impact you for your entire life. I have three stories I'd love to share that have formed some sort of conspiracy (OMG. The spelling of that "c" word is pretty hilarious considering what I'm going to be writing about) to profoundly affect my life.
When I was about four years old, Mom and Dad somehow got the dubious privilege of taking some of us kids from church over to Victoria, BC for the day. One of our destinations was the Royal London Wax Museum. If you know the museum, you'll know there's a figure of Cleopatra bathing there in front of Julius Caesar. Dad, being the dutiful tour guide asked, "So does anybody know how she died?" None of the kids knew, so he said, "She was bitten by a snake."
Something happened at that moment. It was like some genetic memory switch had been turned on. I refused to get into bed that night as I was convinced - somehow - that there was a snake in my bed. I howled and set up such a fuss that Dad came in to see what was the matter. He pulled back the sheets to prove to me that my Mom was telling the truth that there was no snake in my bed. He then reaffirmed her orders to get into bed. I was "disinclined to acquiesce to their request" (that means "no") and continued my assertion that there was indeed a reptile hiding somewhere betwixt and between my sheets. I'm fairly sure I lost my case based on the lack of evidence on my part. Considering who the judge and jury were, I'm sure I couldn't have had a fair trial anyway. I should have launched an appeal. But I digress...
From that moment on, I have been irrationally afraid of reptiles (in general) and snakes in particular. I loathe them and despise them. It's something I've never outgrown and probably never will. I even get queasy watching nature shows, as I get so upset over watching some poor animal getting devoured by these vile creatures. Okay, wildebeest sort of don't count. They're too stupid to exist. "Oh, look! There's a pair of eyes swimming towards me in the water. I wonder if it will be friends with me." Um, no. Not unless you are thinking in the Hannibal Lector sense of it "having an old friend for dinner."
So that's the first thing. Here's the second:
In 1975, when I was eight, my parents finally gave into my years of, "Can we go to Disneyland, Dad? Can we go to Disneyland, Dad?" (Well, I'm not sure I really was that big of a pest, but I'm sure I did ask). We left on a Friday morning and drove down to Anaheim. I was warned that repeated questions regarding the arrival at our destination would not be tolerated and that we'd be there Monday. In the meantime, I was encouraged to stick my head in the books I'd brought along for the ride.
On the Sunday morning, upon waking, I was informed that our ETA had been adjusted and we would be arriving in Disneyland that evening. However, we would be arriving too late to go to the park. It would have to wait until tomorrow. I found this new change of itinerary satisfactory.
I know we spent two days at the park. I'm not sure what day we went on Pirates of the Caribbean, but it might have been our first. I don't think I'd heard of the Caribbean before (I vaguely remember asking my Mom where the Caribbean was as we were walking in) and I'm not sure if I'd heard of this attraction or not. Yet, something is ringing a faint bell about hearing about it on a Sunday night episode of "The Wonderful World of Disney" that featured a tour of Disney World in Florida. Something happened on that ride. It began my love affair with pirates. It's the only explanation I have for my love of pirates. One of my all-time favourite movies is "Captain Blood" starring Errol Flynn and Olivia De Havilland. So, yes, I loved pirates long before they became cool thanks to Captain Jack Sparrow and the success of the Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise. I was so ahead of my time.
So, when DH and I started dating and I mentioned that I loved pirates, he asked if I knew that pirates were Templars. I said, "What's a Templar?" Well, thanks to Dan Brown and the DaVinci Code, we all know what they are. There does seem to be some evidence that pirates were, indeed, Templars.
So, that's the second thing. Here's the third:
One of my favourite books as a child (under eleven-ish) was "Heidi." This was before I read the "Anne of Green Gables" series. I'm sure I read Heidi many times. I was always fascinated by how Johanna Spyri described the beauty of the mountains of Switzerland. I loved to pretend I was from Switzerland, which I can only attribute to reading Heidi. Reading it made me crave cheese and milk as a child. (Who funded this book, the Swiss dairy guild?) Oh, and guess what my name is in German? Heide. No wonder I loved the book.
Now, here's where things get interesting. The Swiss have a legend of the founding of their country by some knights in white. This legend dates back to around the time the Templar order was dissolved in the first decade of the 14th century. If you look at the Swiss flag, there is a strong resemblance to the Templar cross. Also, the Templars were the first international bankers, and well, what's Switzerland known for? (other than cheese and chocolate?) Banking. Some very interesting coincidences.
So, there you have it. Templars and pirates and snakes, oh my. So that's it then. I'm off to commandeer a ship, "pick up a crew..., raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weasely black guts out." Who's with me? And guess what I just found out? There are no poisonous snakes in Jamaica!!! (but they do have constrictors).
Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!
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