Monday, May 15, 2006
Rainy and cool
A little under the weather.
To clarify my comments yesterday, about the person who ranted against Mother’s Day: I have no problem that she shared her personal experience. The line was crossed when she stated that it shouldn’t be a holiday, N O ONE should celebrate it, and we should be ashamed to celebrate when she had an abusive mother. That’s what I think is inappropriate. I, for one, have a wonderful mother. I try to celebrate her every day, but, being human, I don’t always succeed. Putting aside a special day to celebrate her contributions to my life and so many others is entirely appropriate.
One can choose not to celebrate, should one wish to do so. One CANNOT tell others they don’t have the RIGHT to celebrate positive relationships in their lives, because such relationships are lacking in one’s own life.
Lots of writing to do – many business letters to get out, and two articles, and work on Real. I don’t feel like doing any of it, but it won’t get done on its own.
A French Affair was a perfectly pleasant romp. But the author broke my trust towards the end of the book. It’s a memoir of his life with his wife and three daughters in France. Everything’s been perking along, little adventures, misunderstandings, etc. And, suddenly, sort of in passing, he mentions his wife had an affair, he went to NY to teach and hooked up with a chick from the Bronx (typical Englishman, can’t be alone for five minutes). Well, it happened, fine, not my life, not my business. But to just sort of drop a reference in at the end was like slapping me in the face. It made me feel that the entire book up to this point was fiction, or, at the very least, creative nonfiction, with heavy emphasis on “creative”. A marriage doesn’t disintegrate in a paragraph. It happens over time. If you’re going to write non-fiction about that period in your life, there has to be some reference to growing stress. It certainly gave the title a double meaning – and if that was the case, then the situation itself should have been faced, not shrugged off in a paragraph. Even if the author didn’t want the book to be about the breakup of his marriage, if he’s going to write about that part of his life, it warrants more than a few sentences. I’d spent several hours truly enjoying the book, but was left with a sour taste.
Lots of flooding in New England. I’m supposed to head for Maine later in the week – hope the roads are passable. And I hope the flooding’s not as bad as predicted, for the sake of those who have to deal with it.
We’re supposed to get more rain all day today. I hope the brook doesn’t overflow. I’m going out now to do my few errands, and then batten down the hatches here and get to work. Hopefully, I’ll feel better as the day progresses.
It’s definitely triggered by the stress of The Situation. I’d like to know when the state will gets its thumb out of its ass and start enforcing the law.
Preakness on Saturday. Looks like the field will only be six. It’s assumed Barbaro will win. I WANT him to win, but this is horse racing, and one can’t ASSUME anything.
Hey, is anyone else sick to death of all the shooting and killing going on in the season finales? West Wing’s series finale, last night, was the only classy one I’ve seen this season at all. Everything else is, “it’s sweeps, X’s contract is up, let’s kill/maim/harm as many people in the season finale as possible.”
Blah. The TV’s getting turned off earlier and earlier every night. I was even disappointed with Grey’s Anatomy last night. There’s a difference between escalating drama and hysterical melodrama. Unfortunately, GA crossed the line into the latter last night and lost me. I’ve always loathed Desperate Housewives, so I don’t even know what’s going on there.