A Timely Event
As a time historian, it is essential to verify historical events and facts presented to others in books, on newscasts, and through other sources of information distribution, such as social media. Therefore, since November, I decided to go back in time and check out what happened on November 12, 1993.
My time machine, being a little glitchy, set the right parameters for me and then sent me back to 1993. Unfortunately, I discovered that though the book Chicken Soup for the Soul was published that day, it was different than the year that Chicken Soup for the Soul Day was officially started. I knew that November 12th was Chicken Soup for the Soul Day; look it up if you doubt me (https://nationaltoday.com/chicken-soup-for-the-soul-day). I had yet to learn when Chicken Soup for the Soul Day was started.
So, instead, I decided to check out the validity of whether or not chicken soup is actually a benefit for your soul.
My first interview was with Mrs. Gertrude Goldstein. She was purported to be a chicken soup expert of the highest ranking, according to the people in the neighborhood.
“What is your opinion on Chicken Soup being a healer of everything?” I asked.
“Vell, all I can say,” she replied, “is that as She, who is my witness, says so. So it must be so.”
“And who is this she?” I responded, thinking that the “She” Mrs. Goldstein mentioned would be some deity.
“My Bubbe, of course, you would call her my grandmother. Would you like some chicken soup with matzo balls?”
“No, thank you. Thanks for your time. I’m on the clock and must move on.”
My next stop was at a local religious establishment, where I looked to talk to one of the lead people in running the place. He called himself The Right Reverend Roger Dimpwiler.
I asked, “Do you have time to talk about Chicken Soup for the Soul?”
“Time, who has time to talk about a soul? The Soul is so much more than time.”
He then went on for about 45 minutes telling me about human souls, animal souls, and I believe he even talked to me about shoe souls. It turned out he was the Wrong Reverend to speak to, as he was a Reverend in training and was just practicing sermons. Personally, I would have failed him.
Before I could find another person to interview, my time machine took me back to an undisclosed location in another time period.
I did manage to figure out that I was in New York City on November 11, 1918, at 11:00. I gave up and set the machine to take me back home; after all, nothing of importance that I know of happened on that date.
