Sometimes the worst things in life can teach the best lessons. In my case, the thing that brought me a life-altering inspirational message was a movie -- a pretty bad movie, I think most would agree.
Actually, I do believe "Joe Versus the Volcano" (a 1990 masterpiece starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan) was officially named one of the worst movies of all time. In fact, my dad -- who loudly gave it zero stars when I saw it with him in the theater -- just last week told me that the movie inspired him "to quit seeing movies."
To me, however, "Joe Versus the Volcano" is not only one of the cutest, funniest movies, but also one of the most important. Without it, I surely would not survive this winter.
Apparently like many people, I have found the beginning of this term a little dreary and even a little unhappy. Having been able to spend a month at home with my family and best friends, coming back out here to my dorm room in the middle of New Hampshire sometimes just feels a little lonely.
Snow, ice and rain pouring down and piling up outside my windows has certainly made some afternoons feel like never-ending prison sentences as the miles of ice keep me locked inside. And as I've moped occasionally around the dorm I have even noticed some of the cheeriest hallmates looking a little down.
So I turned to Joe and his volcano. The plot of this movie is simple: Joe works in the darkest, ickiest factory imaginable with only one beautiful, tropical, musical lamp to keep his spirits up (or at least not down). Then he's diagnosed with a fatal "brain cloud," giving him just months left to live. So when he's offered a job of jumping into a volcano (to appease the gods of an island society), he gladly accepts. Thus, he ventures off to a mysterious, magical island somewhere in the Pacific, bringing with him no more daily stresses. And he's finally happy.
But the part I'm most interested in is the beginning, for no matter how sad, sick or utterly depressed Joe feels, he can still pull out his lamp and smile with a little bit of hope.
This dorm, and all dorms, I think, would just feel so much cheerier, happier and warmer with little tropical, musical lamps in each hallway. They could give smiles to the sad, warmth to the cold, energy to the tired, company to the lonely and hope to the hopeless.
Yes, I do think we all need a lamp like Joe's. I've done my part by searching the Internet and asking everyone I know if they've ever seen such a creation, but still I remain lampless.
As a substitute, I have let my southern roommate persuade me into turning to the Dixie Chicks, a country music sensation with upbeat, fun songs about being lonely, sad and lost. I must admit I'm addicted to the catchy voices and fiddle-filled fun, but it still lacks that necessary tropical relaxation of my lamp.
Turning again to Joe, I asked myself why this lamp was so special, why it had such an affect on him and on me. And I realized it was hope: hope of something wonderful happening, hope of one day living on a wonderfully peaceful tropical island paradise.
Now my dad doesn't know it yet, but he just bought me this magical island wonderland (since I obviously can't handle finding and paying for such a thing myself -- what an ordeal). It's either located in the South Pacific or in the Caribbean. The exact location really isn't that important to me.
On my island, where I go whenever I need a break, it's sunny and warm for 11 months out of the year. In December, though, it gets just below freezing in order to kill off all the bugs, germs, lizards and other detestable stuff. And it snows for Christmas, ensuring the correct holiday spirit.
But other than that, it's my tropical paradise. No slush. No ice. No annoying people. No stresses. No homework. No disasters. Just relaxation. My island, as Joe's girlfriend in the movie explains, is "away from the things of man."
I welcome visitors to my island, of course, and am happy to take them to it in my dingy. I've even considered sharing the island with a couple other people for practical purposes. But they have to understand the above rules and cannot disrupt the perfect atmosphere. That's just understood.
So other than leading the people around me to believe I am totally insane, I have accomplished a lot with this little island dream. I've gotten others to watch this unfairly berated film and even appreciate the poetry of its dialogue.
And most importantly, I have found an escape from the winter gloom and ick. I have found a place of hope that one day soon the ice will melt and we can once again go outside without coats suited for the exploration of Antarctica.
Still, a lamp might be more fun, and a little more accessible to others. So if anyone finds one with a revolving shade of tropical colors and a built-in music box of happy songs, let me know. I'd almost be willing to jump into a volcano for it.
