Mirror, Mirror on The Wall

I have been enchanted with mirrors from the time I first viewed “SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS.”

Most little girls wanted to be like Snow White or meet one of her loveable little friends, but I wanted a mirror identical to the one the Evil Stepmother owned, a mirror that only told me what I wanted to hear and see.

But perhaps I didn’t quite realize that until a recent episode made me aware of my own rigidity.

In the last decade or so, each time we replaced a vehicle, the new auto came equipped with Sirius Radio for a limited time. Of course, after enjoying the pleasure of uninterrupted radio for a few months, we inevitably opted to renew the commitment.

I am not certain of the exact number of channels offered by this premium channel, but through the years I zeroed in on only four (Escape, Sinatra, Met Opera and Symphony).

Last week as I put the car in reverse and backed out of my driveway, I automatically hit my favorite of favorites, Escape, and it was different; incredibly different as a matter of fact, joltingly different to be exact.

Of course, instinctively, I believed I had made a mistake, perhaps hit the wrong button or maybe turned the wrong knob. So I turned the radio off. When I returned home later in the afternoon, I again tried to find my beloved Escape. It was gone. It had totally disappeared into the realm of the unknown.

It was Friday night, and when Will and I spoke, he was as uninformed as I about what could have occurred. His favorite channel is Coffee House so he really didn’t seem too concerned about the loss of Escape.

Finally, I turned to my ultimate source of information, Google, and I learned that Sirius had dumped, discarded or eliminated Escape without informing any of its subscribers. Sirius and I have been frenemies for several years now, basically because they are impossible to contact by phone if you need assistance. I assume they have a phone system and a human being who responds, but I have yet been able to contact anyone. Invariably, I send letters or Emails, and it is akin to catching a falling star.

Admittedly, I love their music, or should say I did until I lost Escape Once again I turned to Google and printed out the new listings of channels. No. 17 seemed to be as close as I could find to my beloved 69, and so I experimented with listening to Love.

Amazingly, I like it. Now I am shocked and appalled at my own rigid allegiance for over 5 years to Escape, never swerving up or down on the dial, and I admit perhaps I need to reevaluate my own opinion on other things.

My Mirror of choice shows me as thinner, younger, kinder, and oh, so much more flexible. Obviously, it is time to discard this dishonest reflection and view a more realistic portrait. My erstwhile frenemy Sirius undoubtedly has done me a favor by permitting me to view a more authentic image, and taught me the time is long overdue to move forward. Possibly I could try Pistachio Ice Cream rather than Vanilla; buy the new sweater in chartreuse instead of beige, and even switch from Chanel No. 5 to Caleche. Something I probably should have done eons ago.