The Secret

Believe me. The ‘secret’ works.

The Secret is a book that expounds upon the law of attraction, largely popularized because Oprah added it to her book club. What are women going to do when she retires by the way? They might be like those Obama fanatics who were so riled up by “Hope and Change,” dedicating hours upon hours to campaign rallies until he was elected and then found themselves (right along with Mr. President) wondering, “Well, what do we do now?” I just hope these women continue to read books and take care of themselves properly even though Oprah isn’t there to tell them how to do it. Honestly, though, I would let Oprah babysit my children.

Anywho, the law of attraction basically says that the things we receive in life are a result of our having focused our attention upon them. If I’m consistently focusing on all the things that are going wrong in my life, I will attract more negative things, for example and vice versa. They really take it to the extreme in the book/movie, though. One guy claims that he always gets front-row parking because on his way to wherever he’s going he visualizes a front-row parking spot with his name on it. I think the part he doesn’t tell us is that the events he’s attending are things like, “Save the ‘Emo’ kids” fundraisers, Hunters Anonymous meetings in San Francisco, and how-to talks about creating schools that focus on creating near-death experiences for troubled youth (he would definitely have to fight me for that parking spot on this one).

I don’t know how much of a secret this stuff is. Nevertheless, I’ve been putting out the visualization vibes and have actually imagined a gigantic neon sign over my head, accompanied by obscure techno music, flashing in impeccable Arabic, “Hey, talk to me if you’re way rad.” It’s working. I’ve had many great experiences with the locals. My evening with the Rasta men in Marrakech was unquestionably one of them.

Just yesterday, though, I was casually strolling the streets with my neon sign well-lit and a guy gave me the good ol’ one-fingered salute. I didn’t exactly know how to take it because the bird flies with regularity in my family and the dude had a HUGE smile on his face. Was it an amorous gesture? Does he hate white people with camelbaks, red shorts and homemade knitted hats? Is the secret a complete lie and Oprah’s just trying to make more money she doesn’t need? I don’t know but out of the corner of my eye I saw a guy who was wearing an equally stellar homemade looking thing on his head and thought to myself, “I would like to get to know that guy.” But, I just kept walking, feeling pressed for time as I was going to be late for work.

Who do you think tapped me on the shoulder about 2 minutes later and asked me in perfect English, “How’s it going, man?” Yep. You’re right. It was Tarik. He’s 24 and is majoring in German studies. Imagine that connection, eh? He’s also fluent in Spanish, Arabic and French. He invited me to his house within about 1 minute of knowing him. He lives in a really poor area and his house is extremely minimalistic, so I was quite surprised when he showed me his library. He had books in all the above-mentioned languages and loaned me Catch-22, Words to Live By (C.S. Lewis), and a modest German novel. He took off his cap to reveal a huge Sideshow Bob-esque afro, introduced me to buttermilk (wow, that’s SOUR!) and we talked. Topics ranged from social problems to sports to religion to politics. I’m sure we’ll be hanging out again soon…but keep it on the DL…it’s a secret.