Two nights ago I went to see Gladiator with Nick at the Imax. It was a pretty good movie. Incredible technical achievement. The plot was just too simple for such an epic. And you know the big hairy daddies LOVE that film – they’re all about Russel Crowe – I will say I admire his ability to change genres and types easily. And I only caught two parts where he slipped back into his Australian dialect. I was expecting it to be a little more homo-erotic a la Spartacus – it makes the whole Roman men motif a little risky and uncomfortable and creepy – that these men lived in a world defined by and composed of and ruled by men – and women were just wombs to be birthed. Interesting that the one woman warrior in the film gets cleaved in half – one of the more violent deaths in the film. And of course she’s black.
I hope someday I stop messing up their, they’re and there.
So much to do for the party – my mom called of course last night to ask how the preparations were going – of course I was at the movies. I guess she has this fantasy that I’m actually going to plan ahead and pace myself. Who am I the child of?
Seeing my grandmother really put things in perspective. To look in her ageless blue eyes and see her ancient face light up at seeing me humbled me and my ‘chaos’ beyond belief. Suddenly, that brass ring seems less worthwhile if you can run your fingers through a 94 year old woman’s thick white hair – a woman that did the same for you when you were just as able. That is a big argument with myself as a playwright – that sometimes life’s major moments are understated and subtle and barely in radar. They come and pass and they change you in small small ways. Like seeing my dad sit with the rest of his half-siblings for family pictures – a family picture in which he finally belonged. To see my grandfather O’bryan gearing up for chemotherapy at 78 year of age for his colon cancer. Or his wife Musa Belle grinning in a wheelchair because that is all she can do right now. It makes you want to just value the fact that you can walk, talk, think, dance, eat, sing, play and celebrate.
Oh yeah – I had a dream last night that I was laying in bed watching TV with 98 degrees – only they were called N Sync. Hmmm. I was asking them if they all ever just got so horny they had a group whack-off session.
Then I woke up.