The Remarkable Fortune of the Unremarkable Woman

A love letter to the mundane

Marion (born 1946) lived an unremarkable life.

She was the only child to Sam and April, an unremarkable couple living an unremarkable life somewhere in an unremarkable town.

Sam’s most distinguished feature was the presence of a mole situated on his left cheek. During summer, the mole expanded with the heat and glowed a radiant red. His wife, April, was the living embodiment of bland. People who met April failed to remember a single defining feature or able to recall any conversation with April. She wafted through life camouflaged from the living.

Marion (born 1946), was an unremarkable student.

Her grades had an adequate rank of C. In seventh grade, her parents were filled with jubilation after reading a report card marked as B. It was short-lived. The B grade housed a large coffee stain which mocked Marion’s futile efforts to rise above unremarkable.

Marion never gave up.

She was singularly focused on achieving a level above her intellect. But Marion’s life was destined for the unremarkable second-hand bin. A dusty corner of life where ambitions and dreams go to die. Thankfully Marion was to marry a remarkable man who was dumbstruck by her unremarkableness.

Jonesy was an idiot savant.

A man who had the good fortune to cascade through life unaware of his impact in creating chaos. Jonesy was good with figures. In fact, he was better than good. Jonesy had a remarkable talent for numbers. He was able to twist and absorb and conjure all manner of equations that far surpassed the academic world.

Jonesy’s gift for numeracy led to a career in coding.

One fateful summer, Jonesy met Marion after colliding in the office corridor. Marion was lost and Jonesy was confused. He had gone searching the office of Reggie, Reece, and Turner — Mushroom Handlers, attempting to find the recipient of a Forwarded Email. He had accidentally forwarded the email in a vain attempt at translation. He believed there was a hidden code within the wording. A code that promised enlightenment while declaring a doomed scenario to any who read its proclamations at face value.

Jonesy had forwarded the email to somebody called Marion who worked within the office of Reggie, Reece, and Turner — Mushroom Handlers.

The email stated:

“Forward this email to 100 people within the hour or you will never find true love. Failure to do so will result in 300 couples having their heart broken on Valentine's Day.”

Alarmed by the impending news of failed love and not wishing to inflict anybody with this doom-laden scenario, Jonesy rushed headlong into the corridor and straight into the flailing figure of Marion.

Jonesy knew this was the Marion he had accidentally bestowed a horrendous misfortune upon, by her singularly angled name badge. Very few employees at Reggie, Reece, and Turner — Mushroom Handlers continued to wear name badges after first-day inductions. In fact, only two employees on that unremarkable day wore their badges visible to the staff — Jonesy and Marion.

The unremarkable Marion (born 1946) remarkably had found love. Traumatic, painful, head-colliding love in all colors of the spectrum.

Years later, long after the pair’s unremarkable children had grown and left home to live unremarkable lives of their own, Jonesy would make a toast to his wife on their wedding anniversary. He declared to the gathered inner circle of unremarkable friends that it didn’t matter 300 couples uncoupled on that fateful day, he had found his true love.

It was the singular, most remarkable, and fortunate event ever to happen to Marion (born 1946).

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From this post forward, there will no longer be any Parshat/Torah studies. Only unremarkable stories from the penmanship of Reuben.

This isn’t a rebrand…more of a refresh.

Welcome to the new undistinguished world of the JPF.