MAGIC

Blockhead

 

A perfect square, it arrived via snail mail from humble beginnings - a birthplace in Hungary under the hands of an architect named Rubiks.  As the world was once again righting itself from the rocking carnage of war and imperialism, a new age of neo-liberalism took hold.  The trickle-down of Reaganomics brought this three-dimensional puzzle, with vibrant hues of red, white and blue, orange, green and yellow lighting up its six, flat faces, into a middle class living room.  Under an American Christmas tree, young hands eagerly reached out for a complex maze of light and form to unravel.  It was an instantaneous hit!

From a pristine, blank slate, the magic was twisted and turned, flipped upside down, swiveled and disheveled.  Inquiring minds chewed and contemplated, reflected and analyzed.  In perplex wonder, the ultimate goal was plodded towards - "How to right the magic back to its original state?"  Days passed, school resumed and a favorite past time was relegated to a place on the shelf, or the desktop, in the bedroom or near the TV.  Years past, in which grimy fingertips smeared dirt and peanut butter, saliva and bacteria, across its once clean and smooth façade.  Sides came undone as individual stickers were peeled off of corners and edges.  Some parts even went missing as force became a way to manipulate winning.

Still, the cube sat - ready and waiting for the final moment when all of the simple colors and sides were once again realigned - a final clicking in of instinct and intelligence, of persistence and patience.  Though the river of time had faded and worn down the angular degrees of our once original canvas, the journey along the way is now encapsulated within it.  Forever enmeshed and ready for the next awaiting adventure. 
"3, 2, 1... Blast Off!" 
And, the magic shoots past its place of humble beginnings and on out of the stratosphere - headed for the Andromeda Galaxy or, maybe, even beyond.