and oh my, what comedy you've written. i love this post so much; the metaphors about the carburetor and pilot light and the inexpressive dud as a large piece of furniture LOL. and this line: "What does it mean to override what you know? It means you get to have a life." that license of experience over so-called wisdom or achievement is such a relief for perfectionists like me. when i read your words, i always feel that "yes."
Oh how wonderful that sentence is. "Once you know how many clown cars are going to open in your life, spilling out Carmys and Leos—men the world cares about and who bore you to death—once you realize this, you write comedy."
Laurie, I don’t know if this is a thank you or an unraveling, but here I am.
Your piece didn’t just land — it folded itself into something I’ve been trying to name: the ache of memory that isn’t trying to be remembered. The kind of knowing that doesn’t save you from the thing, but invites you to touch it anyway. And the body — the body knows, even when the scar doesn’t stay.
Your line — “What does it mean to override what you know? It means you get to have a life.”
I had to stop reading.
Not because I was confused. Because I was caught. How many of us build a life by overriding what we already knew? That the flame would scar, that the flirtation would falter, that the joy would expire and still be worth the price?
The wrapping of the ankle. The kitchen kiss. The poppy seed smell of the corner store. These are the quiet violences of love. Not the kind that destroy, but the kind that ask: will you let this mark you even if the mark doesn’t last?
You remind me that sometimes the burn doesn’t scar — and that’s the injury.
That not being marked is itself a wound.
And then you ask the real question:
In dreams, are you really all the characters, or is that something we do in real life?
I think we are. In real life. All of them.
The foot lifter and the one who limps.
The liar and the laugh.
The flirt, the fool, and the flame.
Thank you for leaving the bandage loose enough for the rest of us to feel it, too.
Laurie this is so beautiful. It left me out of breathe. “ I knew it wouldn’t last. Believe me, I knew. I knew it wouldn’t last past when the skin on my ankle looked normal again. Did I really know? Yes. What does it mean to override what you know? It means you get to have a life.” And oh what a life! I’ve been regretting the end of one of those lives and wondering how long we could have gone on together knowing it would end and I wish we had drawn it all out just a little bit longer. There’s nothing like kissing someone you know you won’t kiss again.
Best paragraph ever, so analogous to so much in life - and best part of this is thinking about how to dress it up to make it into something else, or at least tolerable: The best line is “ You didn’t quite know what you were ordering, and there it is in your house. You put a plant next to it to see if that will make it easier for you to live with it, and it doesn’t help.”
Just wonderful writing, wonderful imagery, and laugh out loud funny.
Your take on the story is so interesting (disclosure: I've not read it): why do women tweak their interpretations, obsess over "signals", hope against hope against the red flags and still want to overstock the fridge and think you need to be more interesting for THAT? Your point is well taken - by me, at any rate, that this is not the exclusive province of one writer or one woman's experience, but rather the stuff and substance of many men, and indeed, many women. Enjoyed it.
Thanks so much. I see all these issues in social and political terms, not in psychological terms. If women miss the larger social framework in their thinking, they are left with personal problems.
This is superb -- the Carny clones -- I'd never even heard of Carny and it made sense of so much. My daughter has had a string of them -- and returned them to the furniture shop prpmptly and gone trail walking instead. "Have you ever thought you were a visitor in the place where you lived? It’s refreshing and alienating only briefly." Maybe this feeling is linked with living in a world of too many Carnys.
And Jim -- I love not even knowing which ankle it was!
I am not a writer and have no project but I stumbled onto your post and was caught up in the depth of your words. They made me feel. But because of new deep learning about individuals and their lives and childhoods, Ive also learned that there is so much more in all of us that is hidden from others and for most, even hidden from themselves. Still, it is clear that you have an unusual depth of beauty.
I just discovered your writing and it's wonderful. I loved the comparison of the blank men to large pieces of not-quite-right furniture that we work at trying to fit into our lives - a potted plant, perhaps a colorful throw. My little bit of monthly "extra" money is going to my local NPR station as of yesterday but you're definitely next on my list. Please keep posting!
Wonderful. Are you a free subscriber? If so, I can send you a link for a 50% discount you can use any time if and when you are able to become a paid subscriber. There are many benefits.
and oh my, what comedy you've written. i love this post so much; the metaphors about the carburetor and pilot light and the inexpressive dud as a large piece of furniture LOL. and this line: "What does it mean to override what you know? It means you get to have a life." that license of experience over so-called wisdom or achievement is such a relief for perfectionists like me. when i read your words, i always feel that "yes."
Lots of love, my dear friend. I'm so happy you were at Steven's beautiful event.
Oh how wonderful that sentence is. "Once you know how many clown cars are going to open in your life, spilling out Carmys and Leos—men the world cares about and who bore you to death—once you realize this, you write comedy."
Thanks, dear M!
Laurie, I don’t know if this is a thank you or an unraveling, but here I am.
Your piece didn’t just land — it folded itself into something I’ve been trying to name: the ache of memory that isn’t trying to be remembered. The kind of knowing that doesn’t save you from the thing, but invites you to touch it anyway. And the body — the body knows, even when the scar doesn’t stay.
Your line — “What does it mean to override what you know? It means you get to have a life.”
I had to stop reading.
Not because I was confused. Because I was caught. How many of us build a life by overriding what we already knew? That the flame would scar, that the flirtation would falter, that the joy would expire and still be worth the price?
The wrapping of the ankle. The kitchen kiss. The poppy seed smell of the corner store. These are the quiet violences of love. Not the kind that destroy, but the kind that ask: will you let this mark you even if the mark doesn’t last?
You remind me that sometimes the burn doesn’t scar — and that’s the injury.
That not being marked is itself a wound.
And then you ask the real question:
In dreams, are you really all the characters, or is that something we do in real life?
I think we are. In real life. All of them.
The foot lifter and the one who limps.
The liar and the laugh.
The flirt, the fool, and the flame.
Thank you for leaving the bandage loose enough for the rest of us to feel it, too.
Warmly,
Dr. Simona L. Brickers
Happy I made you feel. xxL
Laurie this is so beautiful. It left me out of breathe. “ I knew it wouldn’t last. Believe me, I knew. I knew it wouldn’t last past when the skin on my ankle looked normal again. Did I really know? Yes. What does it mean to override what you know? It means you get to have a life.” And oh what a life! I’ve been regretting the end of one of those lives and wondering how long we could have gone on together knowing it would end and I wish we had drawn it all out just a little bit longer. There’s nothing like kissing someone you know you won’t kiss again.
So true! xxL
Best paragraph ever, so analogous to so much in life - and best part of this is thinking about how to dress it up to make it into something else, or at least tolerable: The best line is “ You didn’t quite know what you were ordering, and there it is in your house. You put a plant next to it to see if that will make it easier for you to live with it, and it doesn’t help.”
Just wonderful writing, wonderful imagery, and laugh out loud funny.
Dear Sharon, so glad out paths have crossed. I hope you will subscribe if you have not. xxL
Phenomenal writing. A thrilling read.
Thanks!
Your take on the story is so interesting (disclosure: I've not read it): why do women tweak their interpretations, obsess over "signals", hope against hope against the red flags and still want to overstock the fridge and think you need to be more interesting for THAT? Your point is well taken - by me, at any rate, that this is not the exclusive province of one writer or one woman's experience, but rather the stuff and substance of many men, and indeed, many women. Enjoyed it.
Thanks so much. I see all these issues in social and political terms, not in psychological terms. If women miss the larger social framework in their thinking, they are left with personal problems.
The dininition of insanilty and yet we are in it up to our necks in do overs!
I appreciated the ending of the bear - felt like we got a little recognition and acknowledgment - moping isn’t as interesting or successful as care.
Love this piece and look forward to rereading it for years. 💕
Chris Marker one said, "Nothing distinguishes memories from ordinary moments. Only later do they become memorable by the scars they leave,".
I love him.
ILove this post very much
xxL
This is superb -- the Carny clones -- I'd never even heard of Carny and it made sense of so much. My daughter has had a string of them -- and returned them to the furniture shop prpmptly and gone trail walking instead. "Have you ever thought you were a visitor in the place where you lived? It’s refreshing and alienating only briefly." Maybe this feeling is linked with living in a world of too many Carnys.
And Jim -- I love not even knowing which ankle it was!
Carmy is the central character in “The Bear.” xxL
Brilliant ( as usual)
Thanks, dear Eric. Please let people know about my stack, if possible. xxL
Will do - though I’m not much of an “influencer”
I haven't read writing this good in a long time. I am all in for the book.
Thanks so much. I hope you have subscribed. There's an archive of 250 pieces as well as a new one every 5 days. xxL
I am not a writer and have no project but I stumbled onto your post and was caught up in the depth of your words. They made me feel. But because of new deep learning about individuals and their lives and childhoods, Ive also learned that there is so much more in all of us that is hidden from others and for most, even hidden from themselves. Still, it is clear that you have an unusual depth of beauty.
"There are spaces that lack rooms and walls and therefore don’t exist in architecture."
- That's a great sentence.
Glad you think so.
I just discovered your writing and it's wonderful. I loved the comparison of the blank men to large pieces of not-quite-right furniture that we work at trying to fit into our lives - a potted plant, perhaps a colorful throw. My little bit of monthly "extra" money is going to my local NPR station as of yesterday but you're definitely next on my list. Please keep posting!
Wonderful. Are you a free subscriber? If so, I can send you a link for a 50% discount you can use any time if and when you are able to become a paid subscriber. There are many benefits.
I am a free subscriber. Please do send the link and I'll see what I can do.
https://lauriestone.substack.com/d4a4dd9b