That Was Sometime Other Than Now

Annie Hall is worthwhile. But referring to your analyst makes you feel like Woody Allen, of whom you once had a very, very large picture in your apartment. Three feet high, and at the time, unbeknownst to you he was behaving in all sorts of questionable ways with his family.

To paraphrase Ann Lamott, maybe he and your parents should have tried raising Yorkies instead of children.

And John Hiatt observes, Maybe your mama didn't treat you right. Maybe her intentions weren't even very good. Maybe your daddy laid awake at night, imagining himself in some other neighborhood.

You weren't allowed to get a big head. Like Woody Allen, three feet high.

You eat nails for breakfast. You keep your socks pulled up. You have fulfilled your parent's aspirations. They now want something more from you but none of you can quite figure it out.

You were left to your own devices, like maybe they were too. You are channelling John Hiatt again, out on the open road and wondering what to do. Don't ask how we got here, baby, don't ask how, that was sometime other than now. 

Worthwhile Things:

(Even though yrmama has been instructed by her analyst to stop evaluating the things that she values. She is supposed to just accept them.)

Bettyville, by George Hodgman

A nice young man takes care of his mother during her final months. The events are strung together in a sufficiently insightful and self-deprecating narrative to make it entirely worth reading.

The Rooms of Heaven, by Mary Allen

Ms. Allen writes about the suicide of an old boyfriend in a way that is not remotely humorous but still does not make one cringe. The camera stays securely inside her own mind. You can learn about her quirky and effective writing techniques by attending a workshop too.

The city of Vancouver appears to be worthwhile. 

Mr. Holmes 

- a movie starring Ian McKellen about an elderly Mr. Holmes, struggling with a failing memory, fictional accounts of himself and his exploits and drafting a truer narrative about the events of his last case and the completion of his life. It ends with a lovely image of him doing some sort of yoga/liturgical dance-type moves in a grassy field surrounded by some very symbolic stones. When you view this film try not to be seated next to a tall stranger man who thinks all the armrests are his armrests. It is viscerally stressful to try to make oneself small for the two hours of a fairly slow-moving story.

You'll also want to subscribe to The Sun.

And if you are an overly sensitive person of artistic sensibility,

you might want to consider drafting a memoir of your own as a spiritual exercise in stringing together objective facts into a meaningful narrative. The facts are just the facts but the story can be told in any number of ways.

That's about it. If you know of anything else do tell.