A funny idea, on a fun trip to Las Vegas. Sitting and eating dinner watching the fountain at the Bellagio Hotel, and of course me being a curious lad I ask the waiter about the balcony I saw on a TV show where you can push the fountain button whenever you want. Not because I want or need to push it, just because I want to know if the button and balcony actually still exists. The waiter, in good form, neither confirms nor denies the existence of the button, but instead says:
“Hold on a second, let me check with the manager.”
After about 10 minutes he comes back – Says “stand up” walks me over to the wall and says “turn that dial quick all the way to the right” – And of course all the fountains go off. 
The entrepreneur in me is instantly suspicious. Was this all just timing. A joke that they have played on countless “sloshy” patrons day after day and week after week.
The group I am with is split. Some see the fun in the joke, others go to more specific data points saying yes it actually did turn on the fountains. I’m pretty convinced I have just turned on a sprinkler system. And the pessimist in me has instantly forgotten the awe I had for 4 or 5 seconds when he took me to this non-descriptive panel with red lights and a big knob and said “I got approval for this.”
What matters more, the specifics, the reality, or the 5 seconds of awe.
Is that the difference between a child and an adult?
The child just believes in the awe longer and easier than the adult? The awe when they first reach under their pillow to see what a “Tooth Fairy” has left for them. The awe when we built our first Leprechaun Trap, and Shamus left a note. The first time she wakes up and sees that the Xmas tree has more underneath it then it did the night before, and that the milk and cookies have been half eaten…. by someone.
Does the actuality matter if the awe is still there. If you turn the knob to the right, and the fountains and music go off, does the rest matter?
Maybe I did actually turn the fountain on. Maybe the waiter had used this idea of turning some random knob to get a bigger tip for the last year. Maybe BOTH are true. But does the truth matter if it creates the “awe.” If the truth mattered then why have parents been tricking kids with fairies and stories of big bearded men and chimneys for so many years? Of bunnies that bring chocolates and eggs, and stars and wishing wells and Leprechauns. Maybe that’s why Halloween was always my favorite, it was always the most practical. Dress up and get a piece of candy, or a 100 if you please. No magic, or mysticism or fairies or fables. Or maybe the magic is what I have been missing the most.
The daughter was in a well known play for weekly summer camp a few weeks ago. I took a few pictures and texted them to my friend, who was tangentially related to the actual real play on Broadway. He texted back that he was standing next to the guy who wrote the play on vacation, and had just showed him the text. A few more seconds of awe. I told the story to my daughter, and she was in even more awe. No bunnies or missing teeth necessary.
What if you lived your life assuming those small little moments were always there for you every day. What if you assumed the client you were trying to get was standing right in front of you, or about to walk in your lobby. Or that the simplest text you sent would be read by the editor you were trying to win over, the book deal you were trying to sign, or the music you were trying to get heard.
Then you would probably be an optimist. You would probably live your life believing that the “awe” was not only real, but probably that it was the point. That you could always believe the most cynical explanation, because at least half the time its probably true. But dreams and aspirations and art and movies never seem to work on cynicism, they work on hope and awe. Miracles are still possible, the big break is around the bend, and you are the chosen one, and the center of the universe, at least for a few hours on your birthday, or some sci-fi thriller where you have to save the world.
The story, and the fable, is made for the awe. Maybe none of the other stuff matters.
Maybe we should spend less time trying to dissect the story, and just enjoy and remember the awe.
Whether a hoping bunny, or a dial on the wall at the Bellagio hotel on a Saturday night.
Simpletition - Shawn D. Madden 