Why I feel like the (wo)Man from Atlantis some days

This is probably not going to come out right at all but it’s been on my brain lately and since I’m deep in my mid-life crisis it bears mentioning.  Hang on tight, it’s another stream of consciousness rafting adventure.

I’ve been thinking lately about the Man from Atlantis.  I always liked that show even though it was really pretty goofy and weird.  Then again, I consider myself to be most goofy and weird so that explains a lot.  In the famous words of Inigo from the Princess Bride, “Let me explain…no, no…there is too much. Let me sum up.”

The Man from Atlantis was a television show on here in the States from 1977-1978 and starred Patrick Duffy (before he was Bobby on “Dallas.”) He played a man found floating in the ocean who had remarkable swimming skills, could breathe underwater and had webbed hands and feet.  He claimed to be from Atlantis and the whole premise of the show was “is he really from Atlantis?” and “where the hell is Atlantis now?”  “is there anyone else around from Atlantis?” and “Who can fight these mysterious sea creatures for us underwater?”   They were able to address these weighty issues for only one season before the plug was pulled.

Ok, now that you have the background I was thinking today about the Man from Atlantis.  I was thinking about the episodes where he really puzzled about where he came from and if there was anyone else out there like him.  Most days, I feel a little like the Man from Atlantis.   I mean, (in following the metaphor here) I’m delighted that I can breathe underwater and all but it’s a little lonely being the only Atlantean around and people do tend to stare at my webbed hands (figuratively, not literally…they are not webbed in real life…oh, man…what kind of hits am I going to get from Google for THAT one?)I suppose most of us have these days, yes?  Days when we feel as if there is no one in the world like us.  For me, most days like this I feel really OK about it.  I kind of relish being different from the crowd truth be told. I’ve even developed a remarkable ability to blend in with normal humans (as long as I keep my hands in my pockets and my feet in my shoes.)  Then there are days when  I really wonder who is like me and I wonder where they live and what life is like there.  Is it like Atlantis?  Should I be trying to GET to Atlantis?  Is Atlantis more like Chicago or Helsinki or Des Moines or someplace in New Zealand, only drier?

I’ve added a Facebook application that promises to see who is like me.  It compares me to my Facebook friends to see how similar we are but it’s faulty.  On the list of “fun things to do” I couldn’t really put them in order of preference because half the things on the list were unappealing.  They had no listing for “talk deep with friends” or “read” or “watch falling stars” and that is kind of sad, really.  Either that or there just aren’t that many people who think those things are fun…or those Atlanteans don’t frequent Facebook, that could be it…

Alas, I digress…. and I’ve lost my paddle and my lifejacket is ill-fitting so I’ll end here.

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10 thoughts on “Why I feel like the (wo)Man from Atlantis some days

  1. In an effort always to take an “Oh Yeah!” holla back to ridiculous, and frankly unbelievable levels… well, I could simply say how much resonance I have with this, or… well… I could just remove my left sock.

  2. Mrs. I think you have more in common with most of us out there. I myself am unique and do tend to march to my own drum – most who know me would agree. Who knows maybe you are more normal than the rest out there, who is to say they aren’t the abnormal ones?? I do know what it feels like to be different, because sometimes my perspective on things is totally 360 from other people. I love to star gaze, l like to delve into things and ponder the possibilities of why and how come.

    When my granddad recently died I wasn’t a freaking mass of hysteria like most were, I was calm and I was celebrating the vim and vigor he lived his life with. I could not cry because no matter how hard I looked at it, he lived 88 years, he saw so many changes in the world from the tin lizzy to space travel. How can anyone be upset about that? I just thought yup his physical journey on earth is over, but he is still on a spiritual journey. People commented on my lack of tears at his funeral. I gave a eulogy and talked about the times he lived in and even cracked a joke or two and made people laugh and smile, for me what could be more fitting that to make someone smile at the memory of someone.

    Anyway you aren’t the only one who feels like they have webbed toes and fingers.

  3. OK — so here goes. I wonder if living this sort of cyber existence only contributes to that feeling of isolation and “otherness” that is not the same as the “uniqueness” that you relish about yourself, but a rather more lonely state of being. Does this make sense?

    BIG HAIRY CONFESSION HERE — As your friend IRL, I’ve become increasingly jealous of your online friendships and time spent communicating here and on your other blogs and Facebook. (My thing — I’m not putting this on you.) This from someone who has spent the better part of today working a little, then Ctrl-Tab hopping over to Hotmail and clicking “Check for New Mail” somewhat obsessively. I can’t help but wondering if we’d both feel more connected if we spent some time actually talking to real people face to face or, in the case of you and me, at least on the phone.

    The Internet is Atlantis. It’s not the same thing as reality but it’s fun to imagine that it might be a real place with real people like us.

    That is an interesting take on it, Ms Niles Atlantean….lol.
    Sadly, though…this isn’t a new feeling for me. It’s one I’ve had for the majority of my life and while being in community (real life that is) helps to give me practice to blending in with the other humans it oftentimes only shows me how “outside” I feel from the group at large. Some days it feels sad, other days I’m thankful to be who I am in all my webbed digit weirdness…I KNOW though…that spending time with you would keep my heart in a good place more often. Miss talking to you…that’s fer sure!
    Mrs M

  4. I so feel like this, so often. You aren’t the only webbed footed one out there, lady! I feel it especially now I am pregnant, I am so not doing this the way other pregnant ladies do… I felt it at school. Where I am so lucky is that I never felt it at home. Not with my parents and not now, with Mr BC. Indeed, he, too, feels like a square peg most of the time…

    Maybe as individuals, we all feel like this… maybe it’s endemic…

    Great post. I hope you find the paddle, or your webbed bits come into their own soon!

    Cheers

    BC

  5. Pssssst! mrs. Pull your hair down. One of your gills is showing! lol jk

    A phrase Mr. Beefy likes to taunt me with once in awhile, mrs., is, “Don’t be nervous. Be AFRAID!” Don’t be nervous of standing out. Be afraid of cowering in fear, settling for conformity. Be afraid of the fact that I am an AWFUL lot like HH. Be AFRAID that I like you, I like to post here, and I won’t leave until you kick me off. There. Perspective regained. *snort*

  6. Hey, HH! Is it just me, or do you feel like singin’, “We are the World,” too? Just wonderin’. http://youtube.com/watch?v=ne7fPpxAnuM (BTW, is it just ME, or do Michael Jackson and Gloria Mayfield Banks shop at the same place for Seminar jackets? Just wonderin’.)

    BTW, mrs., speaking of being “different,” you saying Atlantis, and all the fishy body parts, got me thinking about Jethro Tull’s “Aqualung.” Now, Aqualung was not a nice guy, so I didn’t post a YouTube link here about him, but you could go plug in “Jethro Tull – Aqualung (Live)” – posted by jjn – and you will see THE most incredible performer who is incredible because he stands out in the crowd, Mr. Jethro Tull. Anyway, gotta run / catch ya’ll later!

  7. Beefy it is pretty scary that we are like two peas in a pod. I think your hub is right Be afraid – ROF.

    Today I am swimming along in the tide pool. Hang in there Mrs. M, you will make it through this. We all have our moments where we feel ‘apart or different’. Thank goodness for the difference and diversity – could you imagine how boring the world would be if we were all the same?

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