Shazam! An exclamation point word, a cymbal crash of a word, “Shazam” was created in 1939 by artist C. C. Beck and writer Bill Parker, as an acronym naming the superpowers which Billy Batson—aka Captain Marvel—possessed. S, for the wisdom of Solomon; H, the strength of Hercules; A, the stamina of Atlas; Z, the power of Zeus; A, the courage of Achilles; and M, the speed of Mercury.
Since then, “Shazam” has become synonymous with magic and transformation, which is why I chose the image above. The smear of color, the giddy gleam of the reflections—who’s to know that outsize models of Lego bricks on the shore of an artificial canal are the subject? A quick, “grab the camera” image, taken at an amusement park (anything but my preferred territory) it conveys a magic I never expected that day.
Shazam? Oh, yes, I’ll take it!
An extravagant quality, magic. I know it when I see it—or hear or taste or smell it . . . and like all of us, I could use more of it, especially these last few years of Covid 19 and the discouraging world atmosphere we live in. Yet the word “magic” is over-used, too. I’d venture a guess that the vast popularity of pop culture and animated content all over our video landscape is a search for magic, or something that will lift you out of the everyday.
Well, I found magic the other day, free for the taking. And once again I had to overcome my personal resistance, this time to spending scarce time shopping.
One store in particular, seemed to have single-handedly decided to relieve everyone’s doldrums with opulent fabric and color. Right in the front window, I saw a single rack of sparkling mini-dresses, a sequined beacon flashing in the sun. Of course, I had to go in. Of course, I looked closer and reveled in the reflections and sparkle of the sequins! Shazam!
Inside, strolling from rack to rack, I found myself composing an incantation:
Sequin, sparkle, fold and flounce,
Glitter, gleam, bold and bounce!
Touch and hold, print and show,
Embroider, flash, and—off you go!
It was all clothing as fantasy, clothing you don’t need, yet Captain Marvel might suddenly transform you if you just tried it on . . . Clothes you more than “like,” clothes that change your world, grab the moment’s thoughts. If you donned that gleaming gold shirt with your jeans, wouldn’t you suddenly be inspired to write rhapsodic poetry? Or throw that delicate jacket over your Little Black Dress and you’d be transformed into Audrey Hepburn, champagne flute in hand. So sophisticated, dahing!
And “Shazam!” was not limited to one store, nor to clothes only. I imagined myself drinking tea from some extravagant cups with ultra-wide-gold-rims—and another display enticed me with its polished copper. Surely Moscow Mules take some of their popularity simply from the mugs they’re served in.
Stores at Christmas have always held a “kid in the candy store” aspect for me, though I need little or none of what they’re selling; also, many of those clothes will be worn or used once then put away, after that brief moment of singing “the body electric.”
But just a moment of stepping outside oneself is OK. Shazam moments seldom last yet aren’t they marvelous? And they’re not limited to visual events, either. The fragrance of cinnamon rolls, or the sound of your favorite music, the feel of plopping cookie dough by spoonfuls on baking sheets. The clarinet scream that begins Rhapsody in Blue works its momentary magic. . . then is never heard again. Even lengthier pleasures die, the greatest bottle of wine finally empties. And alas, getting to the end of your favorite mystery reveals that all-too-brief moment when you learn “whodunit,”—then it’s on to the next in the series.
Thankfully, “Shazam” style magic isn’t limited to things people create. It’s all around us in the natural world. Every day. Yesterday, stopped at an intersection, my eye fell on a glowing green fan. A low-growing palm, its spray of pointy fronds was perfectly backlit, just waiting for me to notice—and then the traffic light changed, and off I drove.
Sometimes, though, magic holds longer, or even recurs. I think of what my husband called “the sparkle” in the tidal river that ran by our Cape Cod house; many summer afternoons, it illustrated Gerard Manley Hopkins’ great phrase “Shook foil.”
The shazam factor is everywhere! Not just in stores at the holidays, but also in the most ordinary places of life. My cutting board, even, with onion skins billowing. Or a kitchen counter when sun strikes a plastic cup and refracts its light into lovely designs. Or restaurant tables on late June afternoon, transformed to a glowing procession of light, line, and shadow.
The shazam factor is everywhere, just waiting for us to think, see, taste, draw a deep breath–whatever is required to experience it. Then, give thanks and keep on noticing.
Loved the word and these pics! Thanks! Tina
THank YOU, Tina!
You’ve given me a new word to use! I’m always looking for glimpses of Shazam in my life. (I really love your first and last photos!)
Glad you liked Shazam! I think of it in the same category as Abracadabra! Glad you like those two photos, Jamie. I’m so happy I caught the last one (of the plastic cup) while a church event was very busily going on and I saw this on a trip into the kitchen to get something. THanks for your interest!
For me, Your story certainly deserves a Shazam!!
Thank you, Irene!
Sally your photos usually give me a Shazam moment. Close up of the everyday, ripples, shadows. I love and understand your vision. Thank you thank you.
BAM! You nailed it!
Thank you! You’ve shown me some of these, too, over our long friendship!
Love the way you see things… so much positivity 🌞🌞🌞
Lost my husband this year. We spent every summer on The Cape for 52 years. Centerville‼️‼️‼️
Our Shazam ❤️❤️❤️
Cheryl, Thanks so much for your comment. I’m so sorry to hear about your husband. I, too, have spent parts of over 50 summers on the Cape and Centerville is such a lovely place. Hope you will keep reading my blog, and again, thank you very much.
Beautiful pictures of such every day things and lovely description of the Shazam Factor. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and ideas.
You get the prize for comment from farthest away, Carol! Thank you so much.
Amazing photos!!! the blog is shimmering today, loud in a good way! You can be a very lovely low-key person but this high key collection is a pure de-light in a dark afternoon with the light gone by 4pm.!!!! Thanks for warming me up!!!
I remember Massachusetts days when it gets dark so soon – I’m so glad the photos and I warmed you!
Wow! Shazam is right! Your photos are breath-taking!
Linda, thank you so much.
Wow! I never thought of taking a camera along on a Christmas shopping trip, but what an amazing transformation you have made of a somewhat stressful experience to … well, I can’t even think of words for it. The phrase that comes to mind is “A thing of beauty is a joy forever” You can turn the mundane into a joy. (This inspired me to look up the phrase, which I’d forgotten is from Keats. Turns out it’s from a poem that expresses much of what you say here, but of course in very different words. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44469/endymion-56d2239287ca5.)
Your musings also took me back to performances of the Gershwin, and practicing for hours to get that clarinet solo. it’s a tough one!
So… did you manage to finish the shopping you needed to do (said with an evil yet sympathetic grin)?
Janet, hi-
And thank you!
As for the camera along on the shopping trip, I simply don’t go anywhere without it.
Yes, we did manage to do some shopping that day.
Oh, be watching, for I have another piece of writing that was prompted by another shopping trip to a center right near you! Probably I’ll post that one in January –
Shopping — I used to enjoy it more, still can manage to, as you see — but weigh it against creative time. So I have to look for everything I can find to redeem it.
Oh, the Gershwin! That is a great solo and yes, I can appreciate that it must be a tough one indeed–sliding through pitches, wow! BRAVO!.
I appreciate your reading and thinking about this piece so much, Janet!