On Celeste and Tim's arrival, we descended only to find mondo drifts on the very next flight of steps down. Ah well, we slogged our way through the piles of frozen sky and into the huge, maze-like theater lobby.Eventually we found the ultra necessary snack bar – I NEEDED popcorn. Of course I did, this was a movie house after all. Then I spied the prices. The smallest size was a complete, WTF $98.75 (precisely $98.75!).
The take-aways from this little nocturnal moviola are:
1) I was happy as hell to be going to the movies with Celeste, who I don’t see often enough, and our old friend who we haven’t gotten together with in decades. Time passes and we all vanish into the deep ends our respective changing worlds. I miss them both.
2) Curious – why would I be at The Brattle? Their website sez they offer assisted listening devices but there's no mention of closed captioning set ups. From a quick Googling, assistive listening devices are, basically, digital versions of Garret Morris. Not exactly helpful when your sound system’s entirely kaput.
The Brattle’s website adds:
Do you have a question about accessibility? Call the box office at the above number and ask to speak with the manager on duty. We will be happy to arrange accommodations for yourself or a guest, or to answer any questions you may have.If I could call, I wouldn’t HAVE this accessibility issue, now, would I?
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| The Amazing Bob |
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| Wariior Prince Rocco |
I also dreamed of a smallish Gothic church (a fave architecture style – so strong, so over the top, so handsome), sitting in the middle of an infinite-seeming meadow. Helen and fam were with me. We were in a happy mood and yet we going in for my mother’s funeral. Now, I’m not all gleeful that my mother’s gone but neither am I all mournful and missing her either. I’m pleased that I have good memories, not just all those nasty-ass ones. That took some work and I’m glad I did it.
I’m guessing the prompt for this little sleepy-time vignette was the Sherman Alexie memoir that I just finished. He also had a complicated, clouded relationship with his mother.
Or maybe this has nothing to do with mia madre and everything to do with my joy in seeing blooms on our baby Black Tartarian and Bing cherry trees. The Amazing Bob is under and growing within the former and my fabulous warrior prince, Rocco, is under and within the latter. Jen, Oni, Helen and I planted them at around this time last year.
OR maybe everything's feeding the dreams. Yup. Dreams – the multiverse of the mind.
a complicated, clouded relationship with mother sigh
ReplyDeleteEight perhaps ten thousand years ago what became the Jew "Christian" Muslim Mormon Cult of Male Domination usurped the womans' rightful place in the proper ordering of the world and all hence: government, religion, War, pornography, The Church, serve naught but to reinforce that domination.
We who are but a few generations removed from that usurpation (is to) suffer a common malady. It serves well as demonstration of the utter bankruptcy of where we are after ten thousand years of white male domination that some of us cannot even speak to our mothers.
What totally breaks my heart is when once strong women throw evreything over for the status quo – when they attempt to fit in like good little pets. My mother didn't need to do that. All I learned about being my own person. no matter how much that didn't fit in with bullshit traditional roles, I learned from my father.
DeleteI was told a couple of years ago I really should forgive my father. Afterall, "men have been abandoning their children for thousands of years." Big Norwegian/Chilian dude, barely legal, who grew up in a nice suburban house on the outskirts of Eugene Oregon with a mother and father, sister and brother, dog and cat. No point in explaining it to him. I only hired him because his Spanish is way better than mine. Fired him not to long after that. Didn't like his attitude. I can do that.
Delete????????? Afterall, "men have been abandoning their children for thousands of years."
DeleteJesus H.(for haphazard) Christ, what has that got to do with anything?! By this logic, we should forgive rapists, virulent racists (such as 45, fer instance) and other assorted miscreats because, as JC said (I think) "Ass wipes, they will always be with us."
Ya know, a lot of us can multitask. i.e.: not forgive AND lead a happy full life at the same time. Still be angry with someone eons later AND not have that anger destroy our lives...and shit.
There's probably nothing in this world that pisses me off more than some bozo who grew up in a nice suburban house on the outskirts of Some Foking Where with a mother and father, sister and brother, dog and cat telling me the bastard nobody wanted what's wrong with me. The most common dogwhistle is "made poor choices", as if I had a choice which rock I was found under.
DeleteAbout "barely legal", which makes it all the more insideous: the dude was born in Norway to Norwegian father and Chilian mother, academics at the University of Oregon, who never became citizens. So too their kid, who's lived in Oregon, in the Untied States, over sixty years yet has never become a citizen. Telling me whose family have been 'Muirkan for quite some time now, to say the least, what's wrong with me. But for that, he's pretty typically 'Muirkan: dumber than a rock and not nearly as good looking.
Fired him in Spanish. Estas depidido - fuera de aqui, dale!
Shitbags of privilege always seem so rock solid sure that they bloody well EARNED their wealth and position. Those of us on the other side of the tracks...well, obvs we had the VERY same choices on our life's menu (Gosh, Harvard or Yale? A 100G salary fresh outta collehge or do I tour Eurpor instead? decisions, decisons!) and, whoops, we fucked up. That total absence of empathy makes me wanna scream, howl and poke with a sharp, hot stick.
DeleteAlso, YEA you!