"...when you are 43 and talking to a person in their 70s, they seem to occupy a different plane of existence." I think this is sometimes true and sometimes not true. Because my genes include oily skin that doesn't wrinkle, younger people are often astonished that I am 71. But like Jeannie Ewing, below, I think it is a matter of how deep the personal connection is.
I love the way that you can write ten seemingly random things in a row, but it is so skillfully done that it makes a coherent whole. You are a magnificent writer and I look forward to your posts. Some days I get up in the morning and delete nearly everything I subscribe to without reading it. I never delete Laurie Stone! Rule to live by: Never delete Laurie Stone.
You made me laugh! I like that rule. Thanks for the appreciation. Just to be clear, the "seemingly random" are not random. I know you know, but sometimes people don't.
I'd like to comment on this excerpt from your piece today:
"At the time I knew her I was 43, and when you are 43 and talking to a person in their 70s, they seem to occupy a different plane of existence. This is something I cannot keep in mind now when I interact with people several decades younger than me, that to them I may appear to be a lizard or another life form from a period of history they don’t know, nor the ideas that sparked the air of that time."
I am 43 years old, approaching 44. My parents are in their 70s, and, while sometimes, yes, they do seem to "occupy a different plane of existence," mostly they don't. I don't feel that those who are decades my senior are "lizards or another life form." Instead, I try--with every human interaction, whether someone is younger or older than I am--to enter into their world, to try to understand what their lived experience is like, as they relay it to me.
Imagining what life might be like for someone else is the only way I've learned to grow, to mature. I just want you to know that I don't see you the way you may think someone my age sees you. I appreciate you. Thank you for your contributions to the literary community, Laurie.
Theresa Wright was a friend of my parents. Especially my mother. Hadn’t heard her name in ages. Memory married to Niven Bush and Bob Anderson. She’s was stunning . Similar looks as my mother. Interesting I’m struggling a story about my mom . Neared the last paragraphs yesterday. Drinking coffee, watching Morning Joe decided to keep the title Strand Of Pearls and the first sentence. One of my readers query “why don’t you write about your mother “. True I’ve not in 25 years. I, one of 6 daughters, bred in Bev Hills (if that’s a proper term 😆) wrote and delivered her eulogy nyc St Vincent Ferrer. March 2004. She believed I didn’t love her. I’m waiting for a plumber. Good excuse to not head to my writing dungeon. .. I’m 73 a year older than your meetups with your friend Theresa. She was gentle…
Though I live in Australia and have only been to the USA 5 times on the ‘west’ coast, I find your commentary so, so relevant! I think I’ve paid sponsored … will check … and do an annual.
By the way, your short piece recently about Kamala was how I found you. Life’s tiny connections, ha!
Thanks so much. I'm delighted to have you as a reader. You have a free subscription. I would be grateful if this is a time you can upgrade to paid. xxL
I hadn't heard of him. Have been listening on YouTube since I read the line about him. Reading Wikipedia, learning how he died at 43, three days after one of the most powerful performances of his professional life. Horrifying how brief life can be, especially when the talent worked on for so long is at its zenith. Every day of our lives is simply precious.
This is the kind of writing that makes Substack worth dealing with.
This is the kind of writing that makes reading worth doing!
This is the kind of writing that illuminates enough of life so that the dark of the loneliness, the dirty of the shame and insecurity, the obscenity of the carnival, and the violence, insults, and atrocities of power can be, perhaps, be resisted, undermined, and transformed instead of acquiesced to or rigor-mortise-ly ignored.
A wonderful post! I enjoyed immensely! Go Teresa Wright! (her contract!) I saw the movie for the first time as a teenager on a b/w TV in my bedroom and never forgot her or her performance (and creepy Joseph Cotton).
I’m now in the homestretch of reading “Everything is Personal Notes on Now” and don’t want it to end. There are so many great passages, so much insight, so much inside info that I started using a highlighter 1/3 of the way in. Last week (pre-election) I drove past two homes with gigantic banners on their lawns boasting: MOMS FOR TRUMP. Which immediately brought to mind an entry from your book:
“July 13 2018: Can you please not stand up for anything as a “mom.” It has zero meaning to the people who want to kill your children, and reduces the rest of us to chopped liver.”
I love the layered complexity in here that you present in a way that makes it seem like it could be simple. I feel your passion for writing and it’s quite inspiring.
i loved this. i’d forgotten what an autocrat Auntie Em was. puts that story into a whole new place. Baum once said the story was about the collapse of the populist movement
so delightful to read this after a long-ass day. i like the way it skips from here to there and i don't care cuz it's all such fun to read. i snorted my water at this: "Richard is reading Neitzsche’s The Geneology of Morals, and I’m glad we’re not interested in the same things." the cowardly lion was always my favorite, and how great is this line?—"The accent is the truth of the movie, the smell of Times Square and urban life, where every kind of misfit missing a heart and a brain and courage sit together in a bar, wanting the night never to end." i remember loving shadow of a doubt too, but i didn't know teresa wright could come up with something like "looking insinuatingly at a turkey for Thanksgiving," ha! and the perfect finale: "I remember almost nothing, really, of our conversations, except that they happened."
Hi love, I think sometimes tone and a sense of layering almost anything in the pretend moment, when the narrator is speaking, can do the work of plot in that they create a kind of suspense.
"...when you are 43 and talking to a person in their 70s, they seem to occupy a different plane of existence." I think this is sometimes true and sometimes not true. Because my genes include oily skin that doesn't wrinkle, younger people are often astonished that I am 71. But like Jeannie Ewing, below, I think it is a matter of how deep the personal connection is.
I love the way that you can write ten seemingly random things in a row, but it is so skillfully done that it makes a coherent whole. You are a magnificent writer and I look forward to your posts. Some days I get up in the morning and delete nearly everything I subscribe to without reading it. I never delete Laurie Stone! Rule to live by: Never delete Laurie Stone.
You made me laugh! I like that rule. Thanks for the appreciation. Just to be clear, the "seemingly random" are not random. I know you know, but sometimes people don't.
👍
Hi Laurie,
I'd like to comment on this excerpt from your piece today:
"At the time I knew her I was 43, and when you are 43 and talking to a person in their 70s, they seem to occupy a different plane of existence. This is something I cannot keep in mind now when I interact with people several decades younger than me, that to them I may appear to be a lizard or another life form from a period of history they don’t know, nor the ideas that sparked the air of that time."
I am 43 years old, approaching 44. My parents are in their 70s, and, while sometimes, yes, they do seem to "occupy a different plane of existence," mostly they don't. I don't feel that those who are decades my senior are "lizards or another life form." Instead, I try--with every human interaction, whether someone is younger or older than I am--to enter into their world, to try to understand what their lived experience is like, as they relay it to me.
Imagining what life might be like for someone else is the only way I've learned to grow, to mature. I just want you to know that I don't see you the way you may think someone my age sees you. I appreciate you. Thank you for your contributions to the literary community, Laurie.
Lovely! Cheers, L
Wow, how delightful. And such an interesting subject
Theresa Wright was a friend of my parents. Especially my mother. Hadn’t heard her name in ages. Memory married to Niven Bush and Bob Anderson. She’s was stunning . Similar looks as my mother. Interesting I’m struggling a story about my mom . Neared the last paragraphs yesterday. Drinking coffee, watching Morning Joe decided to keep the title Strand Of Pearls and the first sentence. One of my readers query “why don’t you write about your mother “. True I’ve not in 25 years. I, one of 6 daughters, bred in Bev Hills (if that’s a proper term 😆) wrote and delivered her eulogy nyc St Vincent Ferrer. March 2004. She believed I didn’t love her. I’m waiting for a plumber. Good excuse to not head to my writing dungeon. .. I’m 73 a year older than your meetups with your friend Theresa. She was gentle…
“I liked loving him in his absence”. .. what a line! I really enjoy your writing! Thank you. Sara
Wait! Are these real clauses in Teresa Wright's Samuel Golwyn's contract??? Whether they are real or your own witty version, they are brilliant!
They are real!!
That entry paragraph is so strong I read it four times in a row, and then continued to the full piece. Thanks for your writing, Laurie!
I'm delighted to have you as a reader. Many thanks, L
Love that you call Richard's cheese sandwich his "tea!"
That Brit thing is rubbing off on you. And I agree - a cheese sandwich can be a beautiful thing.
Great writing as always, Laurie!
We have been calling it "tea" for a long time!
I could eat cheese sandwiches for tea every day, but it would only end in tears 😉
Yes - your first paragraph gripped me.
Though I live in Australia and have only been to the USA 5 times on the ‘west’ coast, I find your commentary so, so relevant! I think I’ve paid sponsored … will check … and do an annual.
By the way, your short piece recently about Kamala was how I found you. Life’s tiny connections, ha!
Thanks so much. I'm delighted to have you as a reader. You have a free subscription. I would be grateful if this is a time you can upgrade to paid. xxL
Very glad you pointed this out: "You don't hear Scriabin enough on the radio."
He's my favorite composer and I wholeheartedly agree with you.
I hadn't heard of him. Have been listening on YouTube since I read the line about him. Reading Wikipedia, learning how he died at 43, three days after one of the most powerful performances of his professional life. Horrifying how brief life can be, especially when the talent worked on for so long is at its zenith. Every day of our lives is simply precious.
Love this. Especially your moving out, wordlessly, to end a fake and begin a reality. Blessings on the young you who was so powerful.
This is the kind of writing that makes Substack worth dealing with.
This is the kind of writing that makes reading worth doing!
This is the kind of writing that illuminates enough of life so that the dark of the loneliness, the dirty of the shame and insecurity, the obscenity of the carnival, and the violence, insults, and atrocities of power can be, perhaps, be resisted, undermined, and transformed instead of acquiesced to or rigor-mortise-ly ignored.
A wonderful post! I enjoyed immensely! Go Teresa Wright! (her contract!) I saw the movie for the first time as a teenager on a b/w TV in my bedroom and never forgot her or her performance (and creepy Joseph Cotton).
I’m now in the homestretch of reading “Everything is Personal Notes on Now” and don’t want it to end. There are so many great passages, so much insight, so much inside info that I started using a highlighter 1/3 of the way in. Last week (pre-election) I drove past two homes with gigantic banners on their lawns boasting: MOMS FOR TRUMP. Which immediately brought to mind an entry from your book:
“July 13 2018: Can you please not stand up for anything as a “mom.” It has zero meaning to the people who want to kill your children, and reduces the rest of us to chopped liver.”
Thank you!!
Oh, thank you, love! This touches me, especially today. xxL
I love the layered complexity in here that you present in a way that makes it seem like it could be simple. I feel your passion for writing and it’s quite inspiring.
Thank you
Thank you!
i loved this. i’d forgotten what an autocrat Auntie Em was. puts that story into a whole new place. Baum once said the story was about the collapse of the populist movement
Just my kind of mind—the thoughts carried by water between the glisten of stones.
so delightful to read this after a long-ass day. i like the way it skips from here to there and i don't care cuz it's all such fun to read. i snorted my water at this: "Richard is reading Neitzsche’s The Geneology of Morals, and I’m glad we’re not interested in the same things." the cowardly lion was always my favorite, and how great is this line?—"The accent is the truth of the movie, the smell of Times Square and urban life, where every kind of misfit missing a heart and a brain and courage sit together in a bar, wanting the night never to end." i remember loving shadow of a doubt too, but i didn't know teresa wright could come up with something like "looking insinuatingly at a turkey for Thanksgiving," ha! and the perfect finale: "I remember almost nothing, really, of our conversations, except that they happened."
Hi love, I think sometimes tone and a sense of layering almost anything in the pretend moment, when the narrator is speaking, can do the work of plot in that they create a kind of suspense.