And On The Same Day

AND ON THE SAME DAY!

They sat on the bench at the bus stop under a cloudless azure sky, each staring straight ahead at the small, neat little building across the road which looked like a Methodist church that had been converted to some other purpose, possibly a private home. The bulletin board in the front announcing the topic of the next sermon was blank, and looked as if it had been that way for a long time, surrounded as it was with Queen Anne’s lace and tall grass. Apart from the church-house, there was nothing to distinguish this particular stretch of country road. No ambient sounds. As if a stern librarian had put her finger to her lips and whispered, “Quiet!”

“I hope it comes soon. I get kind of antsy just waiting,” she said, stealing a quick glance at her fellow traveler and looking back across the street.

He glanced at her. She was a familiar looking blonde with beautiful waves of cascading hair nearly overpowering her delicate, petite frame. He tried to peg her. “I’ve seen you before, but I just can’t seem to figure out. . . .” he trailed off.

Now she searched her memory. A shy, childlike quality came through his voice, with just the slightest rasp. Warm. Endearing.

“I, I used to be an actress.” She hesitated. “Maybe you’ve seen me?”
“Oh! So you’re . . .”
“And you’re . . .”
Now they frankly stared at each other. The recognition pulled them up short.
“So we’re. . .” he fumbled for the right words. “So we’re home, now”.
“I was sick, so sick. So tired. The paramedics came”.
“Yes. My doctor was there. And then – I was looking down. Seeing myself. Too tired to come back”.
“Exactly”. Her voice trembled. She shuddered.
“It’s a hospital”, she whispered. “It’s going to be okay, now. I feel it”.
“Wanna know a secret? I hated it! Hated all of it. Didn’t know how to stop. Couldn’t stop. Didn’t know what I would do if I stopped.” He willed her to look into his eyes.

She looked. Beyond the ashen skin, the painfully thin nose, the drawn look of his entire being. She looked into his dark eyes. Now there was a recognition that transcended the image she had seen again and again in the tabloids, in the videos, on the news. Something sweetly conspiratorial passed between them.

“And on the same day!” She laughed in spite of herself, and he understood.
“They must be having a field day down there!”
Now they both laughed, deep belly laughs until, uncontrollably, tears sprang to their eyes. They hugged carefully. Hesitant..

Now, a solitary man dressed in white scrubs and immaculate white sneakers emerged from the church house across the street. As he approached the bus stop, he smiled, as if sharing their private joke.

He stopped in front of them, holding out his hands and helped them to their feet.

“The Doctor will see you now”.

WHAT IS NEWS?

WHAT IS NEWS?

It never fails to astound me when I contemplate the “newsworthy” events of the day.

Yesterday, Art and I were driving somewhere with our radio tuned to a talk news station. They were going into lengthy detail about Michael Jackson’s stay at a local hospital for the flu. They even went so far as to describe his brief appearance at the window when he made the “V sign” to his fans. The commentator did not know whether the “V” was for “victory” or for “peace”. Hmmm. A weighty matter, indeed.

Do we really need to know the details of the separation of Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston? It seems like the news spends a lot of time and manpower telling me things I have no business knowing.

One of the Olsen twins (I forget which one) is struggling with anorexia, according to the papers. Again – What business is it of mine? And how can it possibly help her to feel the weight of the paparazzi on top of this potentially life-threatening disorder.

This morning in USA Today there was a piece about someone being successful on American Idol. Good for her. But do I care?

These are only a few examples in very recent memory. But it seems to me it’s always been this way. Back in the 50s, a prominent Hollywood star gave birth out of wedlock, and it was front-page news. (By the way – She was ostracized and blacklisted for years). I realize that mores have changed and that back then, having a child out of wedlock was considered taboo. Still, it seems to me a lot of to-do about nothing.

At the same time, the news continues to use scare tactics to get attention. Yesterday the United States was warned through coverage in all the media that Al-Quaeda was trying to regroup and plan a new attack on our country, possibly with biological or chemical weapons. You might think it is important that we know that. My own feeling is that 1) It’s not really news, because we know all too well that there are certain elements, like Al-Quaeda, who are constantly plotting to do catastrophic harm to the United States while making spectacular headlines. 2) There is absolutely nothing we can do about it as private citizens, except to worry, which is exactly what the terrorist organizations want us to do. Believe me, I don’t need to read alarmist headlines in order to remind myself, “Oh yeah – If I happen to overhear someone plotting to bomb Time Square I’d better call the FBI”.

Every morning in the newspaper, just across from my crossword puzzle, there is a picture of a child. Every morning it is a different child. The caption tells you that the child disappeared from home, and then tells you vital information such as the child’s date of birth, their race, eye color and hair color, when they disappeared, and how old they would be now. Sometimes they use computer technology to age the appearance of the child so that you can see roughly what they might look like now. Some of these children have been missing ten, or even fifteen years. I always take a good look at them. I think maybe one day I will spot one of these missing children and be able to alert the authorities so that they can be returned to their parents. I can’t believe that so many children go missing. Imagine. A new child, presumably abducted, in the paper every single day for years on end. Stuck way back in the “Life” section, across from the crossword puzzle.

© 2005, Robin Munson

LIVING IN THE LIGHT

Last night we had dinner with some friends. Although we would like to see them more often, the opportunity is rare, so the four of us usually wind up talking for several hours while our wait-person twiddles her thumbs and wonders whatever we could be talking about.

Oh – Not much. We just solve the world’s problems, that’s all. We talk about politics and religion (the two big no-nos). We talk about life in America versus life in other parts of the world. (These friends are big travelers and have lived for extended periods of time in Europe and Asia). We talk about the creative life – (both of them are very gifted). We talk about family. In other words, we cover all the bases.

Last night we got to talking about movies. It was one of those situations where they would say, “And have you seen. . .?” And we would say, “No, but have you seen. . .?”. Finally I had to take out a pen and scribble down some titles on a napkin so I wouldn’t forget. (My mind is rather porous these days). While we were talking about movies, I realized that my taste in movies has changed quite a bit.

Back when I was in college, my favorite films were the ones by Ingmar Bergman. Of course, I had no money so I had to watch scratchy, blotchy copies on home movie screens set up in the basement of the dorm. You may have seen some of them, “Wild Strawberries”, “The Seventh Seal” – there were many, whose titles I no longer can remember. What I can remember is the darkness of the films. Looking back, they remind me of what Garrison Keillor refers to as the “Dark Lutherans”. There was a starkness to these films, a bleakness that always left me in an altered state. The one that stays with me the most is “The Seventh Seal” which was a movie about the black plague: A knight plays chess with Death in a futile attempt to save his life from the epidemic. It ends with a very famous image of Death leading the knight and his family into the sunset. It was eerie, beautiful, and depressing. Dark, dark, dark.

So anyway. Last night this friend and I were talking about movies, and we both agreed that nowadays we would rather watch films that enlighten and lighten – films that focus on the happier side of life. I think this is because after you’ve been on this planet for a while, you realize that you don’t have to seek out the dark side. It will find you. There is plenty of stuff out there to be sad about – all you have to do is turn on your TV, glance at the headlines, tune in to NPR on your way to work in the morning, or just overhear a conversation while waiting in line at the bank. In other words, you can’t avoid it. If I had never read a newspaper in the past two years I would still know the names of Scott Peterson and Lacy Peterson. I would still know why I know those names. And even if I put cotton in my ears, I would have to walk around with those images tattooed to my brain.

My friend is worried that by not exposing herself (deliberately) to the more weighty issues she will be “burying her head in the sand”. Well, to that I answer this. And suppose you did not bury your head in the sand. What, among the smorgasbord of catastrophes, could you personally change? The answer, it turns out, (and you have to have lived a few years to know this, too) is: precious little.

My wise therapist once reminded me that I should save my energy for something more constructive than wringing my hands over the political direction of the country. As he pointed out, “You have one tiny little vote.” And so it is with so many things. When you are confronted with something that upsets you, ask yourself if there is anything you can do to change it. If the answer is “No”, move on. If the answer is “a little”, go ahead and do it.

If the answer is, “A lot!” – Then by all means, go for it. But realize that you’re in for quite a battle and will probably deserve sainthood when it’s all said and done.

Meanwhile. Seen any “feel-good” movies lately? I highly recommend “Second Hand Lions”.

© 2004 Robin Munson

I’VE GOT ONE LAST NERVE, AND KARL ROVE, YOU’RE ON IT

I want to go on record as saying here and now that I am one heterosexual, married woman who is a member of the so-called “American People”, who is not threatened by the idea of gay marriage.

I was just watching the News Hour with Jim Lehrer, and one of the guests was a very uptight looking woman who was representing some organization whose sole purpose is to create a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage. This woman had the gall to purport to speak for the “American People”. For the record, she does not – I repeat – does not speak for me. (Or my husband, for that matter).

How threadbare must your marriage be for you to be afraid that someone somewhere is enjoying the benefits of marriage with a (gulp) member of the same sex? It is not the constitution that needs changing. It is the petty, narrow-minded, hypocritical stance of all those self-righteous, fundamentalist Christians who believe they know how everyone else should conduct their life in the bedroom.

Dear God – Don’t we have bigger fish to fry?! We’ve got the war in Iraq. We’ve got terrorists plotting against the citizens of this country every day. We’ve got diseases like AIDS, cancer, ALS, Alzheimer’s, and a flu that may possibly get out of control this winter thanks to a huge shortage of vaccine. We’ve got hunger right here in America. We’ve got violent crime destroying lives in our inner cities. We’ve got children who can’t go to school because they don’t have a permanent address.

But the biggest thing on the mind of America is gay marriage?!

I’m just too fed up, too frustrated, and too angry to write more on this just now – except to say how embarrassed I am to be lumped together with these so-called “American People”.