There were clearly defined periods in Ted’s life. Each had a name, a brand. The Lightning Bolt era gave way to Sabre; Sabre gave way to Excalibur. Which gave way to Lola.
In a way, Excalibur had always been there.
Everyone remembers the legend of Excalibur – the magic sword that Merlin places in the stone (or anvil), and which can only be removed by the true King. All the young wannabes, the pretenders, troop up and confidently grasp the hilt but are unable to take possession of the sword, no matter how hard they try. Only young Arthur, quite unexpectedly, but effortlessly, can grasp the sword and make it his own. Thus he is the One, divinely appointed and sole heir to Uther Pendragon. “Whoso pulleth Out this Sword of this Stone and Anvil, is Rightwise King Born of all England” (Thomas Malory). Some say that the sword in the stone and Excalibur are two different swords, some say they are one and the same, but either way, Excalibur is a magic sword. That sword is like a crown, bejewelled and engraved with mystic messages. If you own it, you rule. A weapon of immense power, but also an instrument of peace. Even the scabbard in which the sword rests is itself magical and can heal the wounded. In the end, as Arthur lays dying, and is spirited away downriver on a transcendent barge, he commands one of his attendants to cast the sword into the water, where a mysterious hand – belonging to the Lady in the Lake – rises up to receive it and from whom, one fine day, it is destined to be reclaimed by a descendant of Arthur, who will recreate the Round Table and the wonderful land of Camelot. Recovered from the water. From the hand of the Lady of the Lake. A second coming. On a par with the Holy Grail.
Excalibur. Everyone knows it, no one believes it, except for poets, novelists, and Walt Disney.
And Ted.
