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Lately, I’ve been thinking about Ted Williams. Superstar. Hall of Famer. Slugger Extraordinaire, War Hero, Cultural Icon: Ted Williams. Frozen-headed Ted Williams. What if he does survive 750 years with his popsicle-head intact and they manage to reattach his iced-head to his iced-body? What then? What will he do for money? Will there even be money? What will have happened to his soul, if there is a soul — if you believe in such things — but, even if you don’t, it doesn’t matter, because if they exist they exist, and if they do not they do not, and whether or not we believe is immaterial. Would he even have a soul, since he will have died 750 years beforehand? Could it have gotten lost in all that time and not have known how to make its way back? Do souls do that? But, look, I digress. What I really wonder is: What would he even talk about? Who would want him to dinner? He’d know nothing about current events, politics, history (at least 750 years’ worth), health, medicine, culture, fashion — except for what happened in the 20th Century, which no one would know or care about. B-o-o-o-o-o-ring! Pass the potato salad, please. People might ask him, just to be polite, just to have something to talk about, just to keep it interesting — though no one would be interested: Just what is baseball? And: What are Red Sox? And: Are “sox” different from “socks?” And: Does your throat hurt with that scar? And: Do you want to know what my shrink says? And Ted would eat and smile and not say a word because his poor soul (and that’s what people would call him: you poor soul!) would have gotten confused upon re-entry — because his head and his body were detached and souls have not been dualists since Descartes’ time — and would have skipped town, found another body, or stayed in heaven or God knows where and we don’t even know for sure if souls exist anyway so it might not even matter. And he’s so used to being famous and all and nobody’ll know him and there won’t be any family member or old teammates or school chums for him to say hi to or wave to from his passing motorcade or have a beer with and talk about old times because the old times will have been over 750 years ago — way too long for anybody to give a you-know-what. And that’s why I’ve been thinking about Ted Williams.

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E.H. Jacobs is a New England-based psychologist and writer. His novel, Splintered River, was published this fall. His work has appeared in several literary journals. He has published two books in psychology, book reviews for the American Journal of Psychotherapy, and served on the clinical faculty of Harvard Medical School.

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