Bigfoot and other truths

I believe in big foot. I mean I really believe. However, I am not a big foot enthusiast. I don’t collect souvenirs or chart the latest sightings of big foot on a huge map I have tacked to the wall of my man room. I won’t bug you about some late night PBS shows I saw documenting the history of big foot, and if you ask me about big foot, I probably won’t show much enthusiasm.

Still, I am a big foot believer. I also believe in aliens, the Loch Ness monster, secret societies, and the Holy Grail. All in all I pretty much believe in any far-fetched, imaginary, or straight out kooky half crock thing that comes down the pipe. Why? Because believing in these things costs me nothing, and having a world that is filled with these mythical, even imaginary creatures, is so much more interesting than the alternative that I will gladly give my belief over to these phantasms.

I like to think of this as Patrick’s wager. A little play on the classical wager of Blaise Pascal who thought that it was safer to believe in God than not, because the payoff for believing and being vindicated in that belief were higher than any alternative.

I remember one time I was asked by a friend, Raven, if I would like to accompany him to the midnight premier of the newest incarnation of the Star Wars saga. While we were standing in line waiting for the doors to open I casually said to him that I was “a huge Star Wars fanatic from way back,” and that I could remember going to the first Star Wars movie with my brother and his friend Jim in 1976 who sat next to me reading the opening paragraphs with tremendous excitement, and that the experience had forever hooked me on the franchise.

Raven looked at me dumbstruck. For weeks he had been talking about going to this premier. It was clearly a big deal to him. “Why”, he asked, “had I not said anything about my excitement sooner.” I looked at him quixotically. “Why would I?” I thought.

The truth is I have never really understood people who are impassioned by their beliefs. I mean, I wanted to go to that premier badly, but I wouldn’t have been crushed if I hadn’t, and certainly I would never have entertained the idea of dressing up as a Storm trooper or Han Solo for the occasion, any more than I could imagine myself wandering out into the woods of the pacific northwest hunting for big foot. Nor will I ever want to vacation in Loch Ness on the off chance that I might accidentally spy Nessie while relaxing in a rowboat.

That being said, going to the premier was awesome; largely because I was going with someone who had looked forward to this moment for months. It was awesome the way sitting next to my brothers friend had been awesome. There is something about being around impassioned people that is contagious. I don’t know if I ever thanked either of these men properly for that experience. But their enthusiasm had shaped my way of thinking and helped my world become a larger and more interesting place