The Dig: Day 1
Artifact: An empty Dots box
Dated: Circa 1994-1999
As first glance, the preservation of this item raises an eyebrow even for a clutterhound such as myself. First, it’s an empty box of candy. Second, though I’ll eat most any type of sweet, I don’t particularly care for tooth-clingy Dots. Third, the box suggests a trip to the movie theater, and Dots candy doesn’t even register in the top 20 Items I Eat at the Movies. So, how I came to buy it in the first place is a bit of a mystery. It’s possible it comes from the eight-year span during which I was matched with a Little Buddy in the Big Brother/Big Sister program. (We went to a lot of movies because, as we all know, the surest way to mentor a child is through relentless exposure to Hollywood.)
Little Dot needs to pay more attention where he's going.
Pity the poor child who thinks we live in a world where all problems have solutions, for this maze has none.
Simple misprint, you say? Well, you say “tomato,” I say “subtle statement of existential angst.” Closer inspection of our little Dot’s “friends” reveals his situation is even worse than the impassable ink-drawn lines suggest: Not only does he live in a world where lines are arbitrarily (and incorrectly) drawn, it’s also one where his fellow travelers lack either the skills or desire to aid those separated from the herd.
Say hello to four excellent allegorical representations of impotent friendship. From left to right, there’s Excited Misdirection, Barely Concealed Apathy, Blubbering Distress and Ill-Aimed Competence.
The lesson here? It’s not always easy to connect the dots. In fact, it can prove impossible.
I’ve got the box to prove it.