I loved reading this piece, Laurie. I'm 77 and I have no intention of letting a single minute slip by that I don't suck the life out of. When I was 12, I read a book by Ray Bradbury called DANDELION WINE. It's semi-autobiographical, and is about Ray himself the summer he was twelves and realized that he was alive...alive in the sense of being a unique oneness that needed to take in EVERYTHING. As we age, we have no way of knowing what will be taken away from us with each passing year, month, week. But we can damn well read, listen to music, write, have friends, kiss our spouses and our family, and spread as much love as possible.
In that spirit, from Terry Carr in 1972: Years ago a friend of mine, Pete Graham, tersely answered the question “When was the golden age of science fiction?” by saying, “Twelve.” Further at https://quoteinvestigator.com/2020/10/14/golden-age/
I do like your stuff...ko fi is a good idea. I'm always failing to pay for things on a rolling basis because there is so much I want to support and sadly not a bottomless pit behind it!
This! “…or as a woman disliked for the wrong reasons, as to some extent Martha Mitchell was. You have to admire Martha for her unswerving implication of Nixon in Watergate and because of the way she was a fist of sand in the eyes of men who needed to be stopped.”
Love this essay! I began to remember how most people - well, men, mostly but some women too, liked me because they liked something in themselves I reminded them of. The people who disliked me confused me and when I asked for explanations, they couldn't tell me. One man, an ex-husband, hated me for 50 years, because he had taken money that was mine, and worse, he had kidnapped our daughter. She's fine, by the way. I love her utterly. He's dead, which is good for him. He was having such trouble living. Happy birthday, Laurie! You're making my old age richer in light.
I loved 'Happiness'. Its distracted dislocation, and sudden sharp focusing. The ephemera that arise again for no discernible reason. Yes, happiness is that un-pin-downable! Which is why it is pointless looking for it, it comes and goes as it will.
“the exquisite safety felt by John Mitchell, the absolute certainty he felt of getting a laugh, when he said, on his way to jail, that he preferred his prison sentence to staying married to Martha.” The insidious cunning of sexism is still with us and is so hard to describe. Thank you for doing it so well in that sentence.
Beautiful! I have a friend who’s turning 70 on December 13, the day after I turn 62. I asked him if he was happy, and he replied, “Happiness is a dirty word once you roll past 60.” Is happiness possible as we age, or does it become nothing but “aches, pains, and regrets” (as my 92-year-old mother-in-law likes to say)?
Perhaps I’m wrong, but you seem happy—or at least your writing does. To me, it’s the writing of someone who is full of life, in her prime, and fully present.
As for Midnight Run, which I’ve watched many times (and even read the script), I do believe De Niro and Grodin change. It’s not a complete 180-degree turnaround, but they’re not the same people at the end as they were at the beginning.
Such a great piece of writing, Laurie--this one really hit me.
I love your description of Bowie as a "... a thin, handsome, English shard of light with reserve." That's all that needs to be said about him, who, even in death, shimmers in my imagination.
Hard for someone who once lived around a corner and now lives as many time zones away as possible without moving closer to even remember the Mitchells. A sudden recall of how much I disliked John, and admired Martha's chutzpah, came back (along with the word chutzpah). It a surreal time, his henchmen, and maybe Mitchell himself, abused and beat her. Their's was a union that ended well for her when he went to prison and she never saw him again.
And wonder about Bowie's 1st wife, Angie, who styled him and created a decade or longer of image - and oddly, according her, told him at the beginning they would not last- and they didn't
When my mom died, my dad said - The happier the marriage, the unhappier it's ending.
I love your writing - beautiful and always touches memory. Those accolades are so well deserved.
And kudos for the recognition of Martha Mitchell's virtues. As you put it: "she was a fist of sand in the eyes of men who needed to be stopped."
A professional note, from a UPI story: Martha Mitchell ultimately learned about the break-in and, learning about the perpetrators' connections to the re-election campaign, called UPI White House correspondent Helen Thomas -- one of her favorite reporters.
well, how apt is the title for this post? i love this line: "I didn’t want to think about examples because I didn’t want to feel bad, and I was aware, in a way that is always sudden, you could change your brain state by deciding to think a certain way." and THIS: "You don't become cynical with age, you become freer in a way that’s romantic." i am trying to change my brain state in this manner. sometimes i think it's working. xx
"I remembered a time before I understood what people meant by taste, before I could discriminate between thing type A and thing type B. I liked every movie I saw and every kind of ice cream I ate."
I'd forgotten that there was such a time in my own life until you mentioned it. "I liked every movie I saw." A particular flavor of contentment, now unretrievable.
You mentioned Rolling Stone Gimme Shelter. Ive vivid recall of an outrageous party 1970 . Not fitting for your morn symphony. So many phrases of softness. I hear Classical.
I loved reading this piece, Laurie. I'm 77 and I have no intention of letting a single minute slip by that I don't suck the life out of. When I was 12, I read a book by Ray Bradbury called DANDELION WINE. It's semi-autobiographical, and is about Ray himself the summer he was twelves and realized that he was alive...alive in the sense of being a unique oneness that needed to take in EVERYTHING. As we age, we have no way of knowing what will be taken away from us with each passing year, month, week. But we can damn well read, listen to music, write, have friends, kiss our spouses and our family, and spread as much love as possible.
Great comment! Thanks, xxL
In that spirit, from Terry Carr in 1972: Years ago a friend of mine, Pete Graham, tersely answered the question “When was the golden age of science fiction?” by saying, “Twelve.” Further at https://quoteinvestigator.com/2020/10/14/golden-age/
Love your line, “You don’t become cynical with age, you become freer in a way that’s romantic.” Yeah, baby. XX
That is true and vastly liberating in the face of the death doom mongers.
xxL I signed you up for the next Zoom, in case you can make it . . . links will go out this week.
I do like your stuff...ko fi is a good idea. I'm always failing to pay for things on a rolling basis because there is so much I want to support and sadly not a bottomless pit behind it!
Thanks, love. It's appreciated.
This! “…or as a woman disliked for the wrong reasons, as to some extent Martha Mitchell was. You have to admire Martha for her unswerving implication of Nixon in Watergate and because of the way she was a fist of sand in the eyes of men who needed to be stopped.”
Love this essay! I began to remember how most people - well, men, mostly but some women too, liked me because they liked something in themselves I reminded them of. The people who disliked me confused me and when I asked for explanations, they couldn't tell me. One man, an ex-husband, hated me for 50 years, because he had taken money that was mine, and worse, he had kidnapped our daughter. She's fine, by the way. I love her utterly. He's dead, which is good for him. He was having such trouble living. Happy birthday, Laurie! You're making my old age richer in light.
Thanks! xxL
That's a dramatic comment! 🕵️♀️
Laurie's words always dig deep in me.
I loved 'Happiness'. Its distracted dislocation, and sudden sharp focusing. The ephemera that arise again for no discernible reason. Yes, happiness is that un-pin-downable! Which is why it is pointless looking for it, it comes and goes as it will.
I'm happy I made you happy! No other goal. Thanks for your comment and for your support. Please come to a Zoom conversation some time. xxL
“the exquisite safety felt by John Mitchell, the absolute certainty he felt of getting a laugh, when he said, on his way to jail, that he preferred his prison sentence to staying married to Martha.” The insidious cunning of sexism is still with us and is so hard to describe. Thank you for doing it so well in that sentence.
My pleasure. xxL
You don't become cynical with age, you become freer in a way that’s romantic- I like this line. It comes with great amount of life experience/age
Here’s the truth. It’s not an earned insight. It’s just something I wrote. This is all writing. It’s all craft and form.
Beautiful! I have a friend who’s turning 70 on December 13, the day after I turn 62. I asked him if he was happy, and he replied, “Happiness is a dirty word once you roll past 60.” Is happiness possible as we age, or does it become nothing but “aches, pains, and regrets” (as my 92-year-old mother-in-law likes to say)?
Perhaps I’m wrong, but you seem happy—or at least your writing does. To me, it’s the writing of someone who is full of life, in her prime, and fully present.
As for Midnight Run, which I’ve watched many times (and even read the script), I do believe De Niro and Grodin change. It’s not a complete 180-degree turnaround, but they’re not the same people at the end as they were at the beginning.
Have a happy birthday!
Such a great piece of writing, Laurie--this one really hit me.
I love your description of Bowie as a "... a thin, handsome, English shard of light with reserve." That's all that needs to be said about him, who, even in death, shimmers in my imagination.
Hard for someone who once lived around a corner and now lives as many time zones away as possible without moving closer to even remember the Mitchells. A sudden recall of how much I disliked John, and admired Martha's chutzpah, came back (along with the word chutzpah). It a surreal time, his henchmen, and maybe Mitchell himself, abused and beat her. Their's was a union that ended well for her when he went to prison and she never saw him again.
And wonder about Bowie's 1st wife, Angie, who styled him and created a decade or longer of image - and oddly, according her, told him at the beginning they would not last- and they didn't
When my mom died, my dad said - The happier the marriage, the unhappier it's ending.
I love your writing - beautiful and always touches memory. Those accolades are so well deserved.
This is great! Thanks so much.
Just listening to Bowie’s Angie - would make a great soundtrack for this post.
Thank you for Donald Hall, even in disdain:
If a new love carries us
past middle age, our wife will die
at her strongest and most beautiful.
==========
And kudos for the recognition of Martha Mitchell's virtues. As you put it: "she was a fist of sand in the eyes of men who needed to be stopped."
A professional note, from a UPI story: Martha Mitchell ultimately learned about the break-in and, learning about the perpetrators' connections to the re-election campaign, called UPI White House correspondent Helen Thomas -- one of her favorite reporters.
https://www.upi.com/Entertainment_News/2022/04/21/Gaslit-Martha-Mitchell/7991649960074/
====
And yes, indeed to “Gimme Shelter.” The opening guitar riffs.
well, how apt is the title for this post? i love this line: "I didn’t want to think about examples because I didn’t want to feel bad, and I was aware, in a way that is always sudden, you could change your brain state by deciding to think a certain way." and THIS: "You don't become cynical with age, you become freer in a way that’s romantic." i am trying to change my brain state in this manner. sometimes i think it's working. xx
Any connection to you changes my brain state. ❤️
likewise, multiplied❤️
"I remembered a time before I understood what people meant by taste, before I could discriminate between thing type A and thing type B. I liked every movie I saw and every kind of ice cream I ate."
I'd forgotten that there was such a time in my own life until you mentioned it. "I liked every movie I saw." A particular flavor of contentment, now unretrievable.
A lyricist you be.
Now that’s not a surprise ! Soothes the wild beast. I need a dimmed , quiet space. Only possible sound my black lab Alvin snoring
That's a nice thought. Any music you want to write? xxL
You mentioned Rolling Stone Gimme Shelter. Ive vivid recall of an outrageous party 1970 . Not fitting for your morn symphony. So many phrases of softness. I hear Classical.
I listen to classical music all the time, including when I write.
Have a great birthday!
Thanks, love. I will be milking it, no doubt, on Friday, my actual birthday, when I post again. xxL