This morning while making a breakfast of sourdough toast, curcumin, avocado and sauerkraut piled high on top, I thought now is a good time to continue watching the witcher on Netflix. I’m so glad I did. Episode II reeled me into a magical and emotional landscape that was unexpected. Although there was the typical political nod when a Baird is singing in a tavern about a potion that causes abortion – which makes me think that either the writers dislike the right so much they had to say something -be it so small, or the producers said “you know what would be great? Let’s stick it to the right…”

The thing is – no one cares. Not the right or the left. Or the middle. Which is how I like it. Being entertained when I watch a story unfold is why I enjoy a show/book/play etc. And this, the second episode sucked me into a world unlike any other. I am in LOVE. Notice the capitals? With Yennefer. She is the deformed and somewhat ugly (again, I didn’t think she was ugly for a moment) adopted child that discovers she has some latent magical powers. When a witch is led to her by her unintended use of magic, she begins training in some of the mystic arts.

Why am I in LOVE? A little history, please. OK, since you asked…(smile)

As I was growing up in beautiful North Hollywood, Ca, I always felt like an outcast. You see, I had this Huge space between my teeth with a capital “H”. Bigger than David Lettermans of right bashing fame. I once had a girl I was dancing with in a nightclub ask me directly – “do you have any friends that have good teeth?” I felt ugly. So I became something else while growing up, that my fellow classmates would use to displace my ugliness. I excelled at science and most teachings presented during my elementary years. I ran for president of service club and won! Sometimes I think it’s because the other kids felt sorry for the little boy with the facial deformity.

Whatever the reason, I instantly identified with Yennefer. I found her quite stunning and beautiful. Because of her struggles to understand and cope with her physical attributes. This begs the question: did the makeup artists do a good job at creating a homely, undesirable and unattractive woman? Not really. But I understood on a deeper level, having considered myself undesirable as a youth. My unattractiveness followed me like a plague all though my teens, even though I had dated some of the most sought after girls in Junior High and High School. It’s taken me almost 50 plus years to begin to overcome my unnecessary and misguided thoughts of desirability.

As the episode comes to a close, I am once again reminded of the political musings of the writers. As the witcher and the Baird are traveling on a desert road after being captured and released by the elves instead of killed by them, the Baird gleefully composes a tune, misstating all the facts, making the witcher the hero – defeating the elves against all odds to become victorious in battle. The witcher says “that’s not how it happened…where’s your newfound respect?”

The Baird replied, “Respect doesn’t make history”