THE DOLORES SUTRA

In a comment on yesterday's post, wherein I mention Franklin Habit will be doing a flyer for World Wide Knit In Public Day (June 10, 2006), Diane said...

"Hopefully Franklin will do this on the down low because if Doris [sic] hears about it the Chicago KIP day will be quite interesting."

Thank you, Diane, for bringing the topic of our beloved Dolores up for discussion. For those of you who do not know who Dolores is, please take the time to read through the links. It's ok -- we'll wait.

Dolores is the ovine creation of the incomparable Franklin Habit, my friend and idol. Dolores is at once his roommate, personal assistant, muse, beverage consultant, historian of popular culture, and obstacle on the road to enlightenment.

I think Franklin may be a wee bit surprised by Dolores' immediate and overwhelming popularity. I, however, am not. You see, I want to BE Dolores when I grow up. I think we all do.

I admire Dolores' daring, her honesty, her adventurous nature, her wicked youth, her carnal desires, her ability to say exactly what she thinks, and her bottomless well of self-esteem. I'm really quite jealous of her. I wish I had danced naked in the mud at Woodstock. I, too, want to open my pores in a hamam in Morocco with Marlo Thomas and an Ethiopian hermaphrodite. I want celebrities to take out protective orders against me!

If you haven't been to Franklin's cafepress store, you really should stop by and buy a bunch of stuff. (I'm hoping for a box of XXXL WWDD teeshirts for Father's Day! I may never wear anything else again!)

Someday -- very soon, methinks -- you'll be able to tell your friends you were buying Dolores items way back before Dolores was a star. I predict that within a year Peter Jackson will be directing a Dolores biopic -- in New Zealand, of course! Dolores will have an eponymous clothing line and a nationwide chain of finishing schools, and Franklin will pose for a centerfold spread in Spinners Magazine.

Shortly after Dolores moved in with Franklin he began studying Buddhist meditation. (He said it was either that or have mutton for dinner every night for a month.) Dolores' entry into my life has been a catalyst for introspection and meditation as well, although my contemplative spiritual journey has taken a markedly different path than Franklin's.

Throughout my day, when I feel even a hint of uncertainly or self doubt -- regardless of the situation -- I take a moment to peacefully contemplate the question "What Would Dolores Do?"

Since I started this contemplative process, life has been a LOT of fun. I just looked out on the rainy cityscape, so drab and dreary and, dreading my planned trip to the grocer (ironically, to pick up some ground lamb) I asked myself "What Would Dolores Do?" and heard inside me a still, small voice reaching peacefully from the depths of my soul.

It said, "Dance naked in the mud, Baby. Dance naked in the mud."