Storm Coming In

This season has been a bitch, and it looks like it isn't over yet.  Another one rolling in.

This could be the big one, at least here in analogy-land.  Be sure to keep the lines open.

Among the Stars

Everyone should have the kind of close encounters with movie stars that we had at Sundance.  Kevin Spacey, Jeremy Irons, Demi Moore, Stanley Tucci, Zachary Quinto, and Simon Baker were among the cast, and were all beautiful and talented and probably extremely wealthy.  But at a gathering after the premiere they were also genuine and perfectly willing to engage in friendly, normal (if you consider the movie business normal) conversations with us, the in-laws.  It was probably a testimony to JC and our daughter, whom they had befriended.  But it also challenged the idea that fame and fortune inevitably corrupt.  These were just our kids' colleagues.  It was as if we had gone to their office party.

I happen to the think the movie, Margin Call, is spectacular.  Of course I'm biased.  But I do think this, and to hell with anyone who disagrees.

Sundancing

Proud to report that my son-in-law, JC Chandor, wrote and directed Margin Call, which premieres tomorrow night at Sundance.  We are here to cheer him on.

The East Side

Here in St. Louis, across the river, there is Illinois, the world of East St. Louis, our Other.  Old industrial plants like this, and strip bars, and wrecked buildings.  A torn-up history.  This place was free when people held slaves in St. Louis; but also the scene of some of the bloodiest race riots in American history, in 1917.

Still Crazy?

I'm hearing some concern that the last post suggests/indicates/confirms that I have lost it.

Nope.  It's all about phonetics and memory.  We remember sounds better than thoughts.  It's why tunes stick in your head but slogans don't.  The post was a tribute to a phonetically-based memory that is some 50 years old.

Another example - I think this is all part of the same mental mechanics - as I leave the parking lot I nearly always wonder if I've locked the car.  If I did so with a beep or a honk I am certain that I did - I remember the sound.  If not, less certain.  I think it's harder to remember an action than a noise.  Definitely in the short term, and who knows, maybe for 50 years.

Something I Learned Phonetically From My Brother, Years Ago, and Never Forgot

Ish biddely obo, obo skedeetindatin wata

Shhhh

Biddle biddle biddle biddle obo, skedeetindatin

Ish biddely obo, obo skedeetindatin wata

Shhhh

Old But Risky

We each will approach this aging stuff differently.  Lately I've been deeply into the 60-is-the-new-40 meme, which of course is a type of denial, but also a type of defiance.  Defiance in the face of aging seems like a good thing, something that keeps you alive, and that has to be the point.

But the raging desire* to stay alive translates itself in some strange ways.  The codgers who are fearful of everything - falling, children, strangers - for them, staying alive seems to mean cutting off risk.  And living, in my view, a pretty boring life.

Old people should be the ones bungee jumping, but they don't.  It's the young who take risks with abandon, maybe because they don't fear death or injury.  Or because they know that just marking time is a great evil, and when we come to fear death we forget that.

I think my answers will be to look for unpredictability and to take risks that mean something more than an adrenaline rush.  60 really isn't the new 40.  It's the new eternal, throwing yourself into the flow, replacing fear with a sense of humor.


* Yeah, OK, my now-favorite poem:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas, o'course.