A Prophecy, A Coat of Limited Colors and A Trip to the Moon

I have never been keen on the biblical prophets or their prophecies but I do believe in miracles. I didn’t even know there were 63 prophets in the Old Testament. You see, I’m not much of a believer in people foretelling the future or on those folks who say they speak on  G-d’s behalf. But every Passover, I open the front door of my home and proclaim, “Elijah, get your ass in the house. Your cup of Manischewitz Concord wine awaits you. Yes Elijah, the wine is sans corn syrup. And yes, it’s the cup with your name on it.”

You’re not laughing. Well, my seder guests usually laugh. I guess you gotta be there.

But contrary to my beliefs, today’s tale deals with a minor prophet, a minor miracle, and a 70- year-old coat of limited colors. Specifically, it’s a flannel, full-length, green and black housecoat with three pockets and a belt. A housecoat once owned and worn by a pioneer of the Beat Generation Jack Kerouac. What do you mean you don’t know Jack? The novelist and poet. The guy who wrote On the Road. The stream of stream-of-consciousness guy. Okay, now you remember.

Well, I’m the proud owner of Jack Kerouac’s housecoat.

So you may ask, “Mort, how did you acquire Jack Kerouac’s housecoat?”

Well, readers, it’s a long story but I’ll try to condense it for you.

My writer friend, Jeffrey Dorn, once worked at Xerox. And one of Jeffrey’s co-workers was a cousin of Jack Kerouac. Upon Jack’s death, the cousin inherited the coat. When the cousin learned that Jeffrey wanted to be a writer, he gifted him Jack’s coat and said, “With this coat of limited colors you shall be blessed with your first novel.”

Of course, Jeffrey wrote and published his first book and the prophet’s prophesy was fulfilled.

Now 40 years later, Jeffrey decides it’s time for the magical robe to benefit another writer. So he donates the coat to a silent auction for the benefit of the South Florida Writers Association. And to entice members to buy raffle tickets, Jeffrey tells the tale of the magical housecoat.

I think, “I gotta get my hands on this powerful piece of prophecy. Maybe owning and touching it will bless my typing fingers. Maybe my writing career will blast off.

So to make sure I won, I bought a whole bunch of raffle tickets and then I prayed.

“Oh Lord please let me win this coat of limited colors. For if you let me win this piece of history, I promise to continue to perform acts of Tikkun Olam.”

I watch as a hand digs deep in the blue and white raffle jar. I shut my eyes and hear my name announced, I jump out of my seat to claim my prize.

With pride, I rub my fingers across the coat’s cloth as if it were touching my tallis on the day of my bar mitzvah. I put on my prize and smiled at the cell phones.

And then I put the Kerouac housecoat in my closet. And I wait. And I wait. And I wait. Yes readers, for almost a year nothing has happened. Then one sunny Florida day the robe performs its magic.

Okay, you want to know what magic?

Well, I receive a call from my friend and fellow poet and novelist, Howard Camner. “Mort, Samuel Peralta, the founder of the Lunar Codex, has commissioned us to write an anthology and our book is going to the moon! Samuel Peralta wants us to call the book “Sea of Tranquility—A Literary Anthology.”

Yes, you read that right. My short stories are part of the Lunar Codex Polaris mission. A collection of 35,000 contemporary creative artists works that have been selected by Samuel Peralta, the founder of the Lunar Codex to go to the moon. Those artworks are part of the NASA CLIPS Mission and are placed on tiny NanoFiche discs and attached to the Astrobotic Griffin Lander which is attached to a rocket and scheduled to launch and land on the Lunar South Pole in November of 2025.

But as I sing, “Wonder of Wonders” I realize that I’m still not keen on the biblical prophets or their prophecies but I must concede when it comes to a magical housecoat worn by a great “Beat” writer some prophecies do come true. And on Passover in Jack’s honor, I will wear his coat at my Seder. And when I open the door of my home to  welcome Elijah, I’ll pause to look up in the sky and glance at the moon and say, “My words are resting on your surface and I believe in miracles.”