THE HALO EFFECT

Scenario One:

Two detectives walk down a darkened alleyway in a classic Hollywood crime drama. They're wearing trench coats and smoking cigars underneath lowered pork pie hats. This is playing. It's sepia-toned, or, at least, it feels somehow sepia-toned. 

Detective Jim Sawyer: I don't know about you, Bart, but I think this latest piece of evidence points directly to our prime suspect.

Detective Bart Jefferson: I could see why you might think that, Jim, but he's not the killer, see.

Sawyer: Oh really, now? And why is that, Bart?

Jefferson: Isn't it obvious, Jim?

Sawyer: No, it's not, Bart. We found his ring at the scene of the crime! How could he not be the killer? 

*the camera zooms in closer to Bart's face as the music swells into climactic suspense*

Jefferson: He's from Wisconsin, Jim. There's no way a man from Winsconsin could commit such a crime. 

Sawyer: *incredulous* Just because someone is from the same state as you doesn't mean they can do no wrong! Surely you know that, Bart! Surely you must know! 

Jefferson: I don't know much, Jim, but I do know this. And you've just gotta trust me. This man is innocent." 

_________________________________________________________________________________

Scenario Two: 

A mom and daughter are sitting in a quaint cafe, waiting for their orders to be served as they chat and enjoy being together during the holiday season. This is playing. This is a Hallmark movie.

Sharon: So your fiancé, Jeff, tell me about him! 

Holly: Oh, Mom, he's just so wonderful! I can't stop thinking about him! 

Sharon: So when did you two meet? 

Holly: Yesterday!

Sharon: Holly, don't you think that's a little soon? 

Holly: For most girls, yes, but this is different! 

Sharon: And how is it different? 

Holly: *leans in, eyes wide with excitement* He's from Washington! *squeals*

Sharon: Oh! If he's from Washington, just like we are, then I have no issues at all with this turn of events in your life! Let's go shop for a dress! 

Holly: I love you, Mom!

_________________________________________________________________________________

Scenario Three:

The chief of police on a gritty, weeknight television drama sits behind his desk in his well-lit office, opposite a tearful woman clutching a tissue in her hands. Generic, dramatic music creates tension in the background. 

Captain Eggers: Now, Mrs. Francis, we're going to do everything we can to find your son, but we'll need a little more information from you to make that happen. May I ask you some more questions? 

Mrs. Francis: Yes. Anything you want to know. I just want my son! *devolves into sobs*

Captain Eggers: I understand. But you're going to have to hold it together just a little longer. Is that alright? 

Mrs. Francis: Yes, yes. Of course it is. 

Captain Eggers: Okay. So we believe your son was taken by this man. *holds up a picture* Do you recognize him? 

Mrs. Francis: Yes, I do. I left my son with him while I ran back to my car to grab my purse, and when I got back, he was gone. But there's no way it's him! 

Captain Eggers: Why are you so sure? 

Mrs. Francis: He said he was from California! 

Captain Eggers: What? 

Mrs. Francis: I'm from California, and whenever other people are from California, too, I just trust them--even if they're a complete stranger. Because they're from California! 

Captain Eggers: But aren't there millions of people in California? How could every person from California be trustworthy?

Mrs. Francis: I just know.

SELECTED SCENES FROM STAR WARS: THE RAY AWAKENS

(We see Ray Romano walking in the swirling winds of the Jakku desert. He notices a droid struggling to free itself from the net of an opportunistic scavenger.) 

Ray: HEY. WHAT'S UP WITH THIS ROLLING BALL.

(BB-8 beeps and the scavenger threatens Ray to go away.)

Ray: LET HIM GO. GET OUT OF HERE, ROBERT. 

(Ray helps to free BB-8 from the scavenger, who leaves, brandishing his fist in the air.) 

BB-8: Beep beep beep! Beep beep! 

Ray: YOU'RE JUST MAKING BEEPING SOUNDS, BUT SOMEHOW I CAN UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY MEAN.

BB-8: Beep beep beep beep beep.

Ray: YEAH I GUESS WE CAN BE FRIENDS.

.................

(Ray and BB-8 sit outside of Ray's makeshift home while the sun sets, as Ray eats.)

BB-8: Beep beep beep, beep beep, beep beep beep. 

Ray: YEAH. I FEEL THAT WAY TOO SOMETIMES.   

.................

(Sitting in the Millennium Falcon, Finn and Ray get to know each other after escaping from the First Order.) 

Finn: So you got a boyfriend? Cute boyfriend? 

Ray: WHY WOULD YOU ASK ME THAT.

.................

(Han Solo and Ray stand on the edge of a lake taking in the beauty of Takodana.) 

Han: I've been thinking about bringing on some more crew, Ray. Someone to help out, someone who likes the Falcon.

Ray: OH I LIKE THE FALCON.

Han: Whaddya say? 

Ray: DOES THE JOB HAVE GOOD BENEFITS.

Han: Well, you'd get to hang out with Chewie and me...

Ray: NO THANKS.

.................

(Ray and Maz Kanata share a moment beneath her castle.)

Maz: The belonging you seek is not behind you--it is ahead.

Ray: THAT'S A REALLY NICE THING TO SAY. THANKS, MAZ.

Maz: You're welcome. Now, take the lightsaber. It calls to you!

Ray: NO. 

.................

(Ray lies restrained and incapacitated in the interrogation room on Star Killer Base, as Kylo Ren prepares to question him for information on Luke Skywalker's whereabouts. He sits silently, watching him. Ray awakes.) 

Ray: WHOA WHERE AM I.

Kylo Ren: You're my guest.

Ray: I DIDN'T ASK TO BE.

(A silence passes, as Kylo Ren senses Ray's feelings through the Force.) 

Kylo Ren: You still want to kill me.

Ray: YEAH CAUSE YOU'RE WEARING THAT FREAKY MASK AND YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND I DON'T LIKE IT.

(Kylo Ren removes his mask, and walks toward Ray.)

Kylo Ren: Tell me about the droid.

Ray: HE MAKES BEEPY NOISES AND HE IS MY FRIEND. 

Kylo Ren: He also has the last piece of a map to Luke Skywalker, and we need it. 

(Kylo Ren leans in closer, trying to intimidate Ray.)

Kylo Ren: You know I can take whatever I want. 

Ray: I SURE HOPE THAT DOESN'T MEAN WHAT I THINK IT MEANS.

Kylo Ren: Don't be afriad, I feel it too.

Ray: I AM NOT FEELING ANYTHING OTHER THAN WANTING TO GET OUT OF HERE, CREEPO.

(Kylo Ren starts probing Ray's mind, looking for information.)

Kylo Ren: I see it... I see the island.

Ray: YEAH ONE TIME I WENT TO HAWAII WITH THE FAMILY. WE HAD A GREAT TIME. 

Kylo Ren: And you've met Han Solo.

Ray: HE WAS ALRIGHT. KINDA CLINGY. TOLD ME HE THOUGHT I'D BE A GOOD SON.

(Kylo Ren is taken aback by Ray's flippant attitude towards the situation. He feels himself growing weaker the longer he ventures into Ray's mind, unable to find the information he's looking for.)

Ray: HEY HAVE YOU EVER SEEN STAR WARS? YOU KIND OF REMIND ME OF THAT DARTH VADER GUY BUT LESS COOL AND REALLY LAME.

.................

(Left in his restraints after Kylo Ren storms out of the room, Ray decides to see if he can use his newfound abilities a second time.) 

Ray: HEY STORMTROOPER GUY. TAKE ME OUT OF THIS THING. 

.................

(Dueling on the edge of a cliff in the forest, Kylo Ren and Ray are locked in battle, their lightsabers crossed.)

Kylo Ren: You need a teacher!

Ray: YOU NEED A THERAPIST, WEIRDO KID. 

.................

(Hiking up winding steps on an island on Ahch-To, Ray suddenly sees a cloaked figure standing with its back to him. The figure turns, and it's Luke Skywalker! Ray holds the lightsaber out to him, and Luke just stares at him. Nothing happens. Moments pass, and they're still standing there. Crickets chirp.)

Ray: LOOK, MR. LUKE, I CAN ONLY HOLD THIS THING OUT TO YOU FOR SO LONG, MY ARM'S KILLING ME HERE.

.................

THE END. 

NO ONE SAYS "BLESS YOU" IN A THEATER

"Achoo!"

The sneeze erupted in an otherwise silent theater. Dave's first instinct was to blurt out "Bless you!" but he quickly realized doing so would further distract the other members of the audience. That person would just have to go without being blessed, he determined. But then he felt uncomfortable.

He normally said "Bless you!" when people sneezed in other situations--at the office, on the train, passing by on their respective ways to work. He even once offered a "Bless you!" when a man sneezed two stalls down in the restroom, and he had briefly faltered before offering that one because he was in a bathroom, for goodness' sake. If it was so important to say it then, why shouldn't he do it here, now, in the theater? 

Well, Dave thought, people are here to watch the movie. If we're told not to talk out of respect for others during the movie, a "Bless you!" is most certainly out of the question. But the thought of respect made him feel uncomfortable, too.

Because, what, if anything, is an offer of a "Bless you!" to a fellow human being if not a show of respect? It's what you do when someone sneezes, isn't it? That's just the way it is. You say "Bless you!", they say "Thank you!"--it's about respect. It would be rude, odd, even, not to say "Bless you!" following a sneeze. 

But here I am, not saying "Bless you!" after that sneeze, thought Dave. So does that make me rude? Am I not respectful? Isn't that the point of it all? Unless...it's not the point. 

But why else would we do it, then? Dave thought, at this point very uncomfortable indeed.

Do we say it to make the person who sneezed feel good? Is it because sneezing is inherently painful? Or do we just say "Bless you!" in order to fill the awkward silence after a sneeze occurs? Because we'd feel uncomfortable if we didn't? 

Like I feel right now, Dave suddenly realized with a mix of guilt and horror. 

But then, if we're not saying "Bless you!" out of kindness or respect, then what's the point behind any other niceties? Do men not open doors for women because they're decent people but because they just want women to like them? Do people not say "How are you?" because they really care to know but because it's just something you say as a greeting? Does my mom not really mean it when she says she loves me but just says it because it would be weird if she didn't? DOES ANYONE EVEN LOVE ME. 

Upon this thought, Dave politely got up from his seat and left the theater to go think about his life.  

THE LOST FABLES OF AESOP: REINDEER GAMES

The North Pole. Christmas Eve. A large group of reindeer is gathered and standing completely still in a snowy glen. Rudolph approaches, cautiously. 


Rudolph: Hey guys. So, now that you all love me and everything, I was wondering if you would let me play some of your reindeer games. Could I?

Comet: Yeah, sure, pal. We’d love for you to join in.

Rudolph: Oh man, I am so excited! Seriously, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to be a part of this. This really is a dream come true for me.

Donner: Oh, we know.

Rudolph: So, uh, well, I’m ready to play! What are the reindeer games?

Vixen: We’re playing one right now.

Rudolph: You…you are? What is it called?

Blitzen: “Stand as still as possible.” I think I’m winning.

Rudolph: Oh, well, that sounds…fun? Um, what are some of the other ones you play?

Dasher: Hmm…well, this is the one we play most often, but sometimes we play this one where we put as many gingerbread men in our mouths as we can.

Rudolph: But aren’t reindeer allergic to gingerbread?

Dasher: Exactly.

Rudolph: *blank stare*

Cupid: But there are other games. Like, the one where we just stare at each other while trying to stay balanced on our right legs.

Dancer: Or there was that one year we shaved mohawks on each other!

Comet: Or when we drew straws to see who would eat those strange berries we found!

Dasher: Poor Herman.

Rudolph: Herman? I don’t remember him.

Vixen: Well, that’s because of the berries.

Rudolph: *sweating* Oh, wow. Um, so…do you ever play Duck Duck Goose, or Monopoly? Bocce Ball? I wouldn’t mind a nice game of Bocce Ball right now. Ha ha ha…..

Comet: Nope, never heard of them.

Prancer: I really like the game where we race to the iceberg, and then bury whoever finishes last in the snow.

Rudolph: How long do they stay buried?

Prancer: Well, if we remember to get them out, not very long, but sometimes we forget to, and well, in that case, we just hire a new reindeer. Not a big deal.

Dancer: Oh oh oh ! Let’s play that one right now! 3, 2, 1—

Rudolph: No, guys, wait! I don’t want t—

Dancer: GO!

Moral of the story: It is far better to be left out than get buried in a snow drift. 

WE LOVE COLORING

Late morning on a Saturday in a trendy cafe in a trendy part of town with really great natural lighting. A group of friends in their late 20s sit at a table in front of trendy plates of brunch that they aren't really eating because they are too engrossed in conversation. Soon one of them notices a woman at another table working intently with colored pencils.

Jenna: Oh my gosh—seriously?

Vanessa: What? 

Jenna: That woman over there is coloring in one of those adult coloring books. 

Tessa: Um...yeah. She is. And? 

Jenna: Tess, do you really have to ask? This whole adults-coloring-like-little-kids thing is super weird. Like, all of a sudden everyone is doing it and I'm like, I thought we were adults, you know? It's like people are reverting to their childhoods because they don't want to deal with reality. 

*Blank stares from everyone at the table*

Vanessa: Wait, are you serious, Jenna?

Jenna: *raises eyebrows* Is it weird that I am? 

Brenna: Totally weird! We all color now. It's like, super relaxing, right girls?

Tessa: Oh my goodness, yes! It's literally the only thing keeping me sane right now! And I just got a new set of metallic pencils and they are a-maz-ing. 

Brenna and Vanessa: SHUT UP! 

Tessa: It's truuuuuue! I'll show you guys later after we go to the gym. I'm loving that new hopscotch class they just started.

Jenna: Hopscotch? 

Vanessa: Hopscotch! And oh my goodness, the monkey bars are making my arms so toned, it's ridiculous.

Jenna: Monkey bars. Hmm. Well, anyways, you guys down to go to a club tonight? I hear that place on 7th is really great.

Brenna: Oh no, let's go to The Sandbox! I love The Sandbox! 

Vanessa and Tessa: It's the best!

Jenna: Do you sit in sand and build sandcastles there with little plastic shovels? 

Brenna: *gasp* How did you know? 

Jenna: Do you guys realize how immature these things are? Like seriously, what's going on? Sure, we all liked doing these things when we were five, but I also used to have tea parties with dolls and you don't see anyone doing that now, do you?

Vanessa: *Pulls a cabbage patch doll out of her purse*

*silence*

Jenna: Well, I think I've officially lost my appetite. I'm going to leave now. Let me know next time you're going to make daisy chains and use your Easy Bake ovens. Oh, and Tess?

Tessa: Yes?

Jenna: Stop sucking your thumb. 

WALDO

At least at one point in all of our lives, we've felt like strangers in a crowd; we don't quite know anyone around us, and none of anyone quite knows us either. It's a strange thing, being so close to others and yet so distant and unattached. Now, imagine you feel this way all the time, only people are coming up to you and saying things like "I found him!" "There he is!" and "Can I take a selfie with you?" No genuine connection. No one trying to get to know you. No escape from the constant barrage of attention. This is the life of Waldo.

Where is Waldo? Where is Waldo? No one ever bothers to ask "Who is Waldo?" or "How is Waldo?" Or, as he often hoped, "Would Waldo like to grab a burger?" or "Is Waldo single?" the answer to both always an unequivocal yes. He often felt like he was just a surface, a shallow drawing on the page of a book, that guy who army crawled along the edge of the shops lining the sidewalk trying to avoid people, prompting concerned looks between those who passed but never a question asking why. Because no one bothered to know.

No one would know that Waldo finds deep solace in writing poetry. No one would know that he is contractually obligated to wear stripes, and that a closet of polka-dotted clothing haunts him every morning when he gets dressed. No one would know that he was the only son of a Greek immigrant, who left Europe to start a modest haberdashery in America, painstakingly sewing buttons on the arms of suit jackets every day to put little Waldo through school. Or that his mom was from Cleveland. And, as he walked through the crowded streets of major cities and social gatherings across the country, he came to the conclusion that no one ever would.

Until that one day when someone did. 

She approached him in the usual way he was accustomed to being approached. "Hi, are you Waldo?" a voice said behind him. 

"Yep, I'm Waldo. You found me."

Annoyed, he turned around mid eye-roll and, surprisingly, found the most beautiful woman he had ever seen standing there—and Waldo had seen a lot of women. Maybe it was the way her nose crinkled when she smiled. Maybe it was the icy blue of her eyes somehow managing to melt his hardened heart. Maybe it was simply because she was blonde. Really, really blonde. That was probably it.

"I was just wondering, would you like to come over to this coffee shop with me? It won't take long." 

Almost forgetting how to move his mouth, Waldo eventually obliged with an eager nodding of the head that nearly knocked his hat off. The two walked across the street, and Waldo felt like he had just won the lottery, or found a $100 bill on the ground, or discovered some long forgotten relative had died and bequeathed everything to him, or some other metaphor about luck that isn't money-related, but much better than that. Someone, and not just any someone, had invited him to get coffee. He, Waldo, was getting coffee with a girl. Someone pinch him. 

"I've actually never gotten coffee here before. Or really...ever! Ha, I know that sounds stupid, because like, everyone knows me, but yeah." Talking was not a thing at which Waldo excelled. 

"Wow, really? That's crazy. I love this place."

"I'm sure I will too. Yeah. Did you know I write poetry? I, um, could share some with you if you want. It's about my feelings and stuff." 

"Sure, if you'd like!" she said. They were nearing the entrance to the shop and Waldo, clearing his throat, recited his most recent haiku.

"Oceans of people,

Surrounding me in my dreams,

I am so alone." 

She looked at him with a smile tinged with sympathy. Or was it pity? "Wow, that's really good, Waldo! You should definitely keep writing." Opening the door for her, he looked at his reflection in the window and, for once, saw someone different behind the glasses, stripes, and silly hat. He smiled. 

"Okay, so could you take a selfie with me and my friend? She didn't want to leave the shop because there's wifi in here." 

BILLY JOEL: PSYCHIATRIST

9 o'clock on a Saturday. We see Billy Joel sitting contemplatively opposite a leather chaise, scribbling on a yellow legal pad as a silent but bustling New York City moves beyond the large window behind him. Hurried footsteps outside the door signal the arrival of his 8:45 appointment, who is late. 

Joel: Slow down, you crazy child! 

Girl: Hello Dr. Joel! I'm so sorry I'm late. I hope I haven't kept you waiting—

Joel: For the longest time? No, I rather enjoy having a few moments to myself in between appointments. But we've got so much to do, and only so many hours in a day. Have a seat, Andy.

Andy: Thank you. Wow, it smells amazing in here! I didn't realize you were into candles.

Joel: I didn't start the fire. It was my secretary. 

Andy: Oh, well, she has great taste. How was your trip? Where did you go again?

Joel: Vienna.

Andy: Oh, I've always wanted to go there! I hope it doesn't change before I get the chance to go.

Joel: It will wait for you. So, let's get to what we're here for, shall we? 

Andy: Okay. So, I've been having problems with my mom. Recently we've been drifting apart, and no matter what I do it doesn't seem to be good enough for her. None of my accomplishments amount to anything in her eyes and I'm starting to think there must be something wrong with me. 

Joel: Andy, you're perfect, just the way you are. Don't go changing, trying to please your mother. There must be something going on in her life that is clouding her interactions with you. Does she know how you feel?

Andy: No. I guess I've been too nervous to bring it up.

Joel: Well, tell her about it! Tell her everything you feel. Give her every reason to accept that you're for real. 

Andy: And you think she'll listen? If I—

Joel: Tell her all your crazy dreams? Let her know you need her. Let her know how much she means. To you. 

Andy: Wow, that's really good advice. I think I'll do that. I'm just worried she'll start in and try to tell me how to live my life, since I'm pretty sure what I'm doing now doesn't meet her idea of success. 

Joel: Well, if that happens, you need to look her straight in the eyes and say, "I don't care what you say anymore—this is my life. Go ahead with your own life, leave me alone." And if that doesn't work, tell her you're movin' out!

Andy: But then again, she may be right. I just...I just think I'm not taking enough chances in my life. I should take some risks, do something crazy! You know? I go to work, every day, 9 to 5, but I just can't help feeling that there's someplace where I'd rather be.

Joel: Only the good die young! You've been living in a white bread world, Andy. You don't want to have any regrets when you look back on your life. I see far too many people living with the effects of regret when I moonlight as the Piano Man on my days off. 

Andy: I know. It's just, scary, you know? To put yourself out there. Especially in relationships. Could you...could you maybe introduce me to anyone you know? 

Joel: John at the bar is a friend of mine. He gets me my drinks for free. 

Andy: Hmm. I'll think about it. *pause* You know what else bothers me? Every time people call my name, they expect to see a man. And sometimes I wonder if my gender neutral name actually makes me look more manly to people. Like, is this mascara the only thing making me look feminine anymore? Do I look gross? Is that why people don't like me?! *sobs uncontrollably*

Joel: Andy, you're always a woman. To me. And to everyone else. 

Andy: *looking up with tear filled eyes* Really? Even though I've lost my girlish charms? 

Joel: Once I thought my innocence was gone. Now I know that happiness goes on. Here, take my handkerchief. 

Andy: Thank you, Dr. Joel. I really needed to hear that. 

Joel: I'll take the good times, I'll take the bad times, I'll take you just the way you are. Because I need clients. But so will everyone else, including your mother. You just need to be open with her, because I have a feeling that hasn't happened for the longest time. 

Andy: It's true. It really is. I need to do that.

Joel: I don't want to see you let a good thing slip away. 

Andy: Neither do I. 

Joel: Well, I do apologize, but Davy from the Navy will be coming in soon for his appointment so we're going to have to cut our time short today. 

Andy: That's totally fine. I'm the one who came in late, anyway! Well, thank you for your help. It's really going to help me turn over a new leaf. 

Joel: Of course. Just slow down, you're doing fine.

Andy: By the way, how you do feel about Bon Jovi? 

Joel: It's still Rock and Roll to me.