Whilst (or while, your call at this stage of morning) I was reading The Principles of Uncertainty**
(**a delightful book I picked up for $1 years ago to tear apart for collages, but didn’t have the heart to because it was so pretty. Instead, it was placed in a basket with other books in a corner until I forgot about it until tonight. After work I went outside to sit with the dog to drink some wine, and to read the latest New Yorker. While grabbing a pitcher of water to water the plants, I spied the book’s white form and grabbed it after I filled the water (100 degree heat equals plant dehydration…human too) The New Yorker never got read because Maira Kalman’s art & words were just too…
fab)
In her words (it is written as a ‘journal’, I think it may have been a project for a column for The New Yorker, but that remains unclear since I just scanned the reviews online after I discovered I must know more about her) there was a bit of commentary on marrying for true love, or not. I thought, why do we marry for other than love?
It like that dream where I don’t really love my Fred, but meh, he helps keep the bed warm in November (or December) when this heat wave will be all but a memory. His smile is straight & honest for the most part until he steps out for a smoke with ___ or ____. I knew this of course, but turn the other way because there is a lack of belief in bliss or happiness.
Cynic? Stoic? Personally, Eeyore has a better fit. I bet they
married for love. If you’re gay, you’ve fought for it more than most, to love. Perhaps that union is more unionized than the legitimized, idolized ‘i do’ ‘i do’ being stated this time of year. We hetoros have it too easy. Not even a blood test these days. Wham! Bam! Yes I Am gonna marry the next fella who shows me he is willing to at least meet the ‘rents.** Too many bands play all night because it just might just be all about the wedding. What about what those to gals have waited to profess: an undying vow of love for there is no one better…or at least they hope not for they passed on all the rest.
**speaking of ‘rents…an update on my father for those who read here more than once…he is still feeling quite poorly, but out of the hospital for now.
[sidebar...irony: decided to watch a movie to wind down and stumbled upon a Sundance flick, Obselidia. There is still 15 minutes left (hardly ever finish a movie in one sitting..nor pay full attention causing a need for multiple viewings) but the content was rather serendipitous to the book. No one wants to believe in the need of love...isn't that grand?]
Carl D'Agostino
/ 2012/07/22My granddaughter and I do the New Yorker cover jigsaw puzzles on their site from time to time and I enter the caption contest every Monday. The mag is a ghost of its form self just like TIME.
Rivenrod
/ 2012/07/26Hey A . . . followed by the obligatory high five . . . similar feelings about The Pillow Book of Eleanor Bron. I found it on the shelves of a charity shop. She is an extraordinarily beautiful English Jewess actress. Bah! I wander . . .
Love: cynicism detected. All I know is, it’s a funny old game with the instructions printed in an unknown language.
Do you think it’s character we fall in love with first?
RR
George W Mahn III
/ 2012/07/26Tearing the pages of books akin to tearing hearts…odd how people run from something good (love) when encountered in authentic form.
Glad to hear your father is at least out of the hospital. Hope he feels better soon!