Modern Prometheus In Dodger Blue

Woody’s award-winning novel “The Butterfly Tree” is available at Amazon (click here), other online retailers, and orderable at all bookshops.

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Dr. Victor Frankenstein, the fictional scientist who created a monster from reanimated body parts collected from human corpses in the 18th century, has outdone himself in 2025, in real life, by perfecting his newest Prometheus.

In Mary Shelly’s famous novel fully titled “Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus,” the unnamed monster measures eight feet tall and is covered from face to foot with horrifying stitches used in assembling the hodgepodge of anatomy, including a brain from the University of Ingolstadt.

This new 21st century Modern Prometheus stands eye-to-eye with the mighty Paul Bunyan, has a physique like Michelangelo’s David that likewise seems carved from Carrara marble, and somehow has been electroshocked to life. It should have a pet named Babe The Dodger Blue Ox.

Shohei Ohtani the Modern Prometheus!

Unlike in the cinematic adaptation, this Modern Prometheus has a baby-smooth face free of scars, no electrode bolts emerging from its neck, nor does it lumber like a drunk walking on stilts on an uneven cobblestone street.

Rather, this monster is as graceful as a Keats poem and fast as the wind – or Ricky Henderson on the base paths – thanks to having been assembled with Hermes’ winged feet and Usain Bolt’s gold-medal legs.

The other appropriated appendages used in constructing this Modern Prometheus include Nolan Ryan’s right arm, albeit with the elbow of Zeus surgically inserted, that throws lightning bolts – straight or veering – with the accuracy of Robin Hood’s arrows.

The only “being” who could possibly hit these bullet-fast projectiles is the new Modern Prometheus itself. Thanks to one eye transplanted from a peregrine falcon and the other coming from Ted Williams, this monster can read the date on a flipped coin from 60 feet, 6 inches away and deciphering the gyroscopic red seams of a baseball is as easy as making out the top letter on an eye chart.

Additionally, this updated Modern Prometheus was injected with a magical serum of mongoose blood mixed with rattlesnake venom. The result is turbocharged reflexes that make a cannonball in flight seem to be in slow motion.

Thus, squeezing a bat in Muhammad Ali’s southpaw fist, which is connected to Hank Aaron’s blacksmith wrist and Hercules’ left forearm and bicep, this monster could smack into orbit every baseball pitched to it if it so chose, but what would be the fun and drama in that?

Instead, like a card shark playing possum before winning the night’s biggest pot, this Modern Prometheus purposely fails time and again until the moment calls for a Hollywood-worthy home run – or three! – and then delivers a skyrocket on cue. Roy Hobbs was “The Natural,” but Shohei Ohtani is “The Supernatural.”

This monster ballplayer’s face is also a conglomerate. On the mound, he has the steely-eyed countenance of an Old West gunslinger. In the batter’s box, he displays Bjorn Borg’s “Iceman” unflappability. In the dugout and circling the bases, he flashes Magic Johnson’s “Showtime” – Shohei-time! – smile that requires no translation into another language.

Ohtani is a great-great pitcher and a great-great-great hitter; as both stitched together, with no apologies to Babe Ruth, he is the G.O.A.T. unicorn.

If not a modern-day Dr. Frankenstein-ian creation, the only other plausible explanation is that Ohtani comes not from Japan, but arrived on earth in a pod sent from a distant planet.

Shohei Ohtani next plays in the World Series – or, in his case, the Out-Of-This-World Series. For fairness sake, Toronto Blue Jays pitchers facing this Superman in a blue L.A. cap with a No. 17 Dodgers jersey covering his red cape should be allowed to doctor the baseball with spit and kryptonite dust.

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Woody’s new novel “The Butterfly Tree” is now available in paperback and eBook at Amazon (click here), other online bookstores, and is orderable at all bookshops.

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Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn.

Engaging GOAT Tale of Two Goats

The acronym GOAT is greatly overworked, for to declare someone – or something – the Greatest Of All Time is a fool’s errand. One person says Mozart is the GOAT while three more argue for Beethoven, Bach and Stravinsky.

Rembrandt, Jordan, the Beatles are countered by Van Gogh, LeBron, the Rolling Stones; or Picasso, Magic, Grateful Dead; and so on.

The lovebirds Jess and Greg

To be sure, “greatest” depends on the eye – or ear – of the beholder. Far better, it seems to me, to have a Rainbow of Greatness and dish out colors. For example, Prince may get a shade of rock-and-roll purple and Steinbeck gets a hue of literary blue and Jesse Owens a glint of Olympic gold.

Which brings me to last weekend’s Ghanaian Engagement Ceremony for my son and his fiancé. Delayed two years by the pandemic, and thus held belatedly the day before the wedding, it was well worth the wait.

Imagine a New Year’s Eve party combined with Shakespeare in the Park, mix in two family reunions, attire everyone in dresses and shirts that look like they were hand-painted by a Disney animator using colors infused with sunshine, and you get a small idea of the big fun.

Oh yes, and don’t forget a bride and groom-to-be as beautiful and handsome as any storybook princess and prince. She wore a stunning lace dress, white as a cloud, the hemline and single sleeve widely bordered with a woven pattern of orange accented with red, green and blue. Her tekua, a crown-like headdress, echoed the bright palette. He complemented her in a long white shirt, its breastplate matching her tekua, white pants, and colorful pillbox kufi cap.

In honor of the princess’s Ghanaian roots, where her mother and father were wed, a spokesman asked for her hand on behalf of the prince. Bargaining, all performed aloud, ensued. Eventually, three representatives of the prince carried in four large woven baskets filled with jewelry and linens, perfumes and soaps, drinks and foods.

Had the ceremony been truly authentic, the offered dowry would have been declined for it lacked one important item: many years earlier, the princess’s mother’s family had received a goat in exchange for their blessings. Alas, that was in Ghana and this was in Santa Monica, and the mother dared not dream to request a goat.

The princess’s family deliberated playfully in open view even though all in attendance knew the generous dowry would in the end be accepted.

Taking no chances, for the prince loves the princess so deeply and dearly that he wished to impress her family beyond all doubt, a nod was given and into the courtyard walked two of the prince’s friends…

…each with a leashed goat in tow.

The jaw of the mother of the princess fell agape in joyous surprise and disbelief.

The two goats – royalty of sorts themselves, having appeared on The Tonight Show With Jimmy Fallon and Saturday Night Live, and been guests at numerous Hollywood parties – departed before dinner was served. This was a good thing because the feast included kebobs of chicken, vegetables and, um, shall we say, meat not from a cow.

Libations and stories flowed; dancing continued long after the stars came out overhead; and the princess’s mother told me many times over, in a sing-song accent as sweet as any bottled fragrance in a dowry basket: “Ohhhh, I still can’t believe it. Your son got me good. Two goats – not one, two!”

Indeed, if it wasn’t the GOAT of engagement ceremonies, certainly it merits a brilliant orange to match the prince and princess’s decorative outfits.

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com