Back to the movie, I was on a mission of sorts and multi-tasking to boot: I’d watch intently and find a way to work those two-and-a-half hours into a column designed to be read in two-and-a-half minutes. Sounded easy enough.

The Transformers, fictional alien robots from the planet Cybertron that turn into devices, animals or vehicles, made their United States cartoon debut in 1984 preceded by a line of Japanese toys started in the 1970s and a Marvel comic book.  I remember hearing the “Robots in disguise” mantra on the many Saturday-morning commercials hawking action figures released in tandem with the show. I was fourteen, barely awake because I’d stayed up late the night before watching “Friday Night Videos”, and uninterested in anything my younger brother liked to watch.

With my lack of childhood knowledge and the fact that I didn’t “get” the first movie, either, I had trouble following the must-see cinematic money-maker from the get-go. Shortly after the show began, my mind started traveling to faraway locations, and I became antsy confined to a chair with nothing else to do. (I “watch” movies at home while reading at least two books, surfing the internet, and penning a few words as inspiration strikes. It’s rare for something on TV to grab my attention and keep it.)  

When it was finally over I asked my fellow watchers their thoughts while exiting the theater. They enjoyed it for what it was: a diversion from everyday life with lots of eye candy. No one really seemed to know (or care) what the “message” was, and I was ruining the experience by asking. Underneath vivid special effects, it was your classic “Good vs. Evil” with good prevailing after stumbling over the many setbacks evil placed in its path. My co-viewers didn’t care: “Stuff blew up!” Sigh. It’s me, not them.

Writing on a deadline has transformed me. My thinking has shifted to an even more introspective place and the lenses through which I view life have gained clarity. Through prioritizing, rearranging, and deleting items on the eternal to-do list, I’ve forced myself to meet a few goals. I inspect everything that comes my way, get a charge out of finding my own quirky angles, and dig my way to deeper meanings . . . constantly.  Then I look for ways to push self-doubt aside, and use the information gathered. In light of what I’ve learned, I feel beholden to aim higher.

If I could bust out of my serious, sometimes robotic, introspective mind-set . . . transform into a sleek sports car and take off speeding through all the menial things and get to what I’d really like to accomplish before the final deadline –that would get my attention.

 © 2009 Natalie Whatley