by notesfromachair

Things You Can’t Say

It was one of those weeks. Suffice it to say – don’t ask. But if I had said everything that I thought, desperately wanted to say or almost said – I, well…

But then I thought – what’s the point of a blog, anyway? To write everything your best self would never say — to your readers. Perhaps you’ve had one or two of these same thoughts yourself. Or maybe one or two will inspire you to share some of your own with others? Just think how much better – or worse – the world would then be. And relish it.

To the cop waiting in his patrol car on the top of a hill in front of a shuttered park:

You don’t give a crap about safety. I could see it in your eyes as you barreled down towards me. No, you wanted to give me a ticket because you either had a quota to fill or you’re p.o.’d because you’re short – even shorter than me (5’7”) and it gives you a perverse unspoken pleasure. You hate your job AND you hate your life.

Starting off strong, Chairy

And for the record, I NEVER speak in the car actually HOLDING my cell phone. It’s always on speaker or Bluetooth. But my 87-year-old father is ailing and it looked like the number of one of his health care workers so when the remote failed and I couldn’t find the speaker button I just HAD to pick it up. I tried to explain this to give not an excuse but a context and didn’t expect a break from you. But what I got was a condescending nod and a walk-away. You’re a dick. And you’ll always be smaller than I am – in every area – no matter what arena we’re in. #Copette

To the brilliant Anthony Hopkins:

Transformers 6? Really???? I remember those days when you were doing Equus on Broadway. And this was decades before you won the Oscar for Silence of the Lambs. And well before you did Remains of the Day. Not to mention Nixon, Howard’s End and even Mask of Zorro. It’s brilliant you cashed in reprising Hannibal Leccter in Hannibal and Red Dragon. Mission Impossible 2 – we get it. Even the Thor movies sort of make sense following noble duds like Alexander, Titus and Noah.

On second thought…. #maybenot

No Tony, I couldn’t turn down$5 million, $10 million, $15 million or whatever you’re getting. But can’t you simply be Iron Man’s grandfather? Or at least a Spiderman super villain? Did you have to go to #BayLand? Fine – alimony, child support or you might lose the house in Malibu. But if you’re simply doing this for some new kitchens, swimming pools or generational visibility, I’m done. Do not #MichaelCaine1980sMe.

To Mitt Romney:

I still disagree with practically everything you stand for and find every other word out of your mouth dripping with condescension – especially when it comes to pushy gay Jews like myself. But I will give you major props for being the only high profile Republican politician to publicly and vocally still refuse to endorse Donald Trump. Who would have guessed you’d out maverick McCain or out boy scout Paul Ryan. Still, there’s an extremely low bar out there from which to excel. #Bully4Mittens.

I think I need to get my eyes check #saywhaaa

I think I need to get my eyes checked #saywhaaa

To Tina Fey:

You’re great but how many more American Express commercials are there? Two? Ten? And why? Why, why, why, why, why??? (Note: See Anthony Hopkins). One can’t help but think it’s the agents. Except, it can’t be. Not really. You’re too young to be Bill Murray’s character in Lost in Translation. And besides, those spots only aired in Japan. #YoureNotAlecBaldwin.

Paying for her daughters’ college tuitions? or funding the Mean Girls musical?

To haters of L.A., NYC and San Francisco:

It’s ridiculously expensive to live here because too many people want to live here. This is not our fault. It is everyone’s fault. Yes, the air is cleaner in Cheyenne, WY and Bismarck, N.D. And houses are a lot cheaper in Waco, TX.

Waco or bust. #shiplap #drinkingtheKoolAid

So? No one is twisting your arm NOT to relocate there (as much as Chip and Joanna Gaines may try). Or to move here. That being the case – please, can the eye rolls stop towards us when you’re talking in public about American values or in private about where you find the real people who make up this country? And we’ll stop dishing about how dumb you are. Or, well, at least I will. #Maybe.

To visitors in my home:

Yes, we have a movie poster with a picture of Judy Garland on it and another vintage one being framed from the movie All About Eve. This doesn’t only mean my husband and I are gay.

#Guilty

It also shows that we have good taste in entertainment and like the color combination of red and cream and how it mixes with the blues and yellows in the rest of the house. (Note: Fine, #Gay). Not to mention, the Citizen Kane poster is too expensive, the Ordinary People poster is too depressing and nowadays Woody Allen gets people too upset. Plus, we can’t afford a Jackson Pollock and will likely never be able to. Still, we do cop to a lack of sports memorabilia, Star Wars toys, and gym class experience. In fact, I, for one, served as attendance monitor my entire senior year of high school P.E. class and never had to change into shorts or break a sweat once in 10 months. #CrazylikeaQueen.

To MSNBC:

Rachel Maddow is my oracle and too often there is a false equivalency made between you and Fox News. Still, your non-stop pursuit of all things Trump is making it impossible to defend you to others.

In the spirit of Roseanne Roseannadanna.. what are you tryin’ to do, make me sick??

Know that it’s one thing to report the news in all of its bizarreness and quite another to broadcast an endless loop of the same incoherent blathering over and over and over again for hours with only a few added sound bytes every few minutes from each one of your paid commentators. Take some of the money you saved by unwisely firing Alex Wagner and hire someone with the guts to do something ingenious – like ambush a real politician against their will and ask them a question no one else has. Then film it. And air it. #SaveHowardBeale.

Hey gurl. #changingchannels

To Hillary Clinton:

Good speech. Your Trump hit lines most likely to persuade fence sitters to your side:

– Imagine him deciding whether to send your spouses or children into battle.

– Imagine if he had not just his Twitter account at his disposal when he’s angry, but America’s entire arsenal.

– I will leave it to the psychiatrists to explain his affection for tyrants.

Now make some of the news reports true and choose Elizabeth Warren as your veep. In a show biz age, she’ll give you the smartest, most solid and sassiest support to take on the Orange Clown.

To #Drumpf:

You’re a mentally ill racist. Go away and get some therapy. Or at least go away. Now be gone, before someone drops a house on you, too.

05.08.16

by notesfromachair

The Odds

Confusion is both underrated and overrated. I, for one, like clarity. I want to know what I’m up against, the potential minefields in my path and all possible modes of action to be employed in order to avoid total disaster. Pessimist? I like to think of myself a prepare–a-tist.

For instance, when I was a reporter I was always as thoroughly prepared as possible prior to interviewing a subject. Cover an obscenity trial in my twenties? Sure, no problem. Let me look up some past cases AND see if anyone knows information about the presiding judge. This took more effort than you can imagine in the late 1970s – those halcyon days prior to the Google. You actually had to go to the library, makes calls and – perish the thought – talk to people IN PERSON.

The horror!!

In the 21^st century it’s a lot easier to be forearmed but the problem is there’s so much information that it becomes overwhelming and occasionally counterproductive. I mean, how is it when you discover a stray sore or a relative gets sick you manage to find thousands of horrific anecdotes on the web (Note: and certainly Web MD) that exactly diagnosis you or your relative’s now clearly terminal symptoms? Can a pimple be a tumor? Most certainly! But you can also get hit by a car while crossing the street. Or die crossing the street because those piano movers on the 5^th floor above you who had fried food for lunch forgot to wash their hands prior to the transport, thus causing their baby Grand in that moment to slide through their fingers and hit you square in the head. Now you’re more dead than Road Runner because life is not a cartoon – only your death.

Okay, clearly I’m also not an optimist. I will concede that.

I’m pretty much always the B

But let’s make this bigger than myself. There are many world life circumstances where too much clarity can also be a bad thing. Do we all really want know the ins and outs of the financial system and every potential at-risk territory in the Middle East, not to mention terror threat? Even as I write this and you read it our collective brains are exploding. Perhaps that’s reason enough for the rise of the Orange Clown. (Note: #Drumpf #Trump #Harrumph). Well, there has to be some reason and that one’s as good – or as bad – as any, right?My 87-year old-Dad underwent an angioplasty procedure this weekend. His answer when I ask him how things are the last few years is always – “Great! I got up today!” An inveterate gambler, he measures everything by the odds and bases those odds not only on stuff he’s read (though rarely on the web) but seen, experienced, heard about or overheard. In other words, in his own way he too researches. So when the doctor beforehand told him there was only approximately a 1% chance of anything going wrong with his upcoming procedure his immediate response was “I like those odds!” and he decided to take them and go through with it.

Injecting a little humor along the way

And hopefully it proved correct. His heart was substantially blocked, as it turned out, and is now unblocked – and the procedure was minimal. Though he’s still a bit loopy from the meds and that’s a bit scary – especially after I went on the web to look at worst case scenario possibilities, which included loopiness that might not go away all that soon. Which is sort of how this train of thought here today got started. Because his current confusion made me wonder – was I not clear enough before this all started about what all his possible outcomes were if we went ahead with the “procedure?” (Note: What a ridiculous word – as if it’s a courtroom, or worse yet, Congress). What were the alternate choices he or I might have taken? Well, doing nothing about his heart would have likely been fatal. Still – the present isn’t totally ideal either. Though even in his current confusion he knows who we all are and they tell us the meds (and their after effects) will soon wear off.

Certainly, that’s not good enough for me – pessimist and glass half empty person that I am.

And yet – I was encouraged by one small development this afternoon – less than 24 hours since the – um – fateful “procedure.”

On with the show

We’re in his room watching Turner Class Movies – his favorite – and what better movie to be on than the original The Hustler starring Paul Newman as aspiring pool hustler Fast Eddie Felson and Jackie Gleason as legendary pool shark Minnesota Fats – battling each other to their financial and psychological deaths. Not only was it about gambling but my Dad used to shoot pool as a teenager and then later, all through his life. How clearly perfect!

Or was it?

We’re watching the movie and he seems to be into it. We talk about the cast and he nods, acknowledges how young Mr. Newman was after we bring up his mind. And yet, something feels off, confused. Which is then verified by him saying – that’s Jake LaMotta.

Well, my heart sank.

No Dad, Jake LaMotta is from another sports movie, Raging Bull. And he was played by Robert DeNiro. But let’s look it up and see who else is in this movie.

See, I’m thinking if I can get him talking, it – or some of it – will all come back.

Except then I go on IMDB and come up with the cast list, Yeah, Newman, Gleason, Piper Laurie as the girl. Then there are character actors Vincent Gardenia and Michael Constantine, followed by – what’s this?? JAKE LaMOTTA?

He acted??? And in THIS movie?

So I look it up and I see clearer than the most clear L.A. day:

Bartender…..Jake LaMotta.

Lo and behold!

Dad, did you mean Jake LaMotta was the bartender? Uh yeah.

Which leads me to believe confusion is relative and clarity is merely a concept we tell ourselves in an effort to be prepared for the things we should be.

It also reluctantly taught me yet again – for the 20^th time – every so often father DOES know best. Especially when I came back later in the day and he was a bit more normal. Not only did he remember everything about the movie The Hustler, what hospital he was in and the “procedure” he had received the previous evening – he had no memory of the first conversation I had with him just hours ago when he was still loopy on the meds about Jake LaMotta and The Hustler.

Just like him to not remember something we clearly spoke about that worried me.

No confusion there. That much I’m clear about.

notes from a chair

Category Archives: Just Sayin’

Things You Can’t Say

The Odds