i watched the first two episodes of the netflix series SHE’S GOTTA HAVE IT on a plane.* i will NOT continue with further episodes. i love spike the auteur. a true artist. i loved the LOOK of the show. of course the music and humor were aces. BUT the story, the main character Nola just didn’t seem authentic to me.
she seemed like a dude’s idea of what a super-empowered woman would be. living alone in a gorgeous apartment, spending her days as an artist, having all manner of satisfying and frequent sex with multiple partners. being invulnerable – if not physically than emotionally. and of course she is insanely gorgeous because only gorgeous women get to be self actualized.
this is the stuff of male fantasy – not female fantasy. kinda like beatrix kiddo was quentin’s fantasy. freakishly beautiful, outrageously strong willed, expertly skilled, the mind, body and temperament of a martial arts master. unattainable. NB: here we are 16 years later, having learned how he made uma drive the car against her better judgement and she almost killed herself. Grrrrrrr.
for starters, Nola would NEVER go for mars blackmon, the ugly guy on the bike. yes, these are caricatures, and he’s a light-hearted court jester type. and the story is trying to suggest that she wants fun and levity in her life so she goes out and gets it through that guy. but it doesn’t ring true. she is machiavellian in every sense of the word. not in any universe would she go for an unattractive sneaker obsessed kid who doesn’t have his own phone. NOT HAPPENING.
and her reaction to the late night attack rings false. a man grabs her on the street as she’s walking home in the dark, says threatening things and stops just short of greater violence. she frees herself and escapes. given how she conducts herself in life, i don’t see nola openly express her feelings of vulnerability to all of her friends and lovers. i’m not buying it.
these are just a couple of the errant details. i read up on the series and apparently a lot of women wrote contributed to it. but the macho spike vibe looms large, IMO. just can’t invest more into this one, knowing what i know, feeling what i feel.
* these are fresh perspectives on the new netflix series that have no relation to the 1986 motion picture.
everything changes all the time, and sometimes good form is all we have to hold on to in life.
when we are wronged… treated unfairly, unjustly, cruelly betrayed, it is so tempting to follow in kind and try to exact revenge.
twitter is a microcosm of this. people say awful, untrue, unfair things to each other all the time. doing so just takes them both lower. it is not constructive … and by engaging in it a person of otherwise strong character debases herself.
same goes for relationships. one partner’s selfish, cruel infidelity is what it is. it is her actions, her legacy – it cannot be rationalized away or undone. nor can it be bested with revenge. revenge is just as ugly as the narcissism and selfishness that led to the betrayal.
the only answer is to keep calm and carry on. keep good form because it’s what you want to teach your children. it’s not fair but life is not fair.
^^ It’s the title of a self help book which I may or may not have read years ago. I don’t recall. I’ve read so many … Nowadays I think self help books don’t work. If you’re constantly seeking, constantly looking for answers, for a new, superlative amazingly simple solution, you’ll never be satisfied.
All peace, confidence and self-knowledge is auto-generated. We create it ourselves by staying present in the moment, expressing gratitude for the goodness in our lives, by observing ourselves, feeling our emotions and then once we’ve felt them, letting them pass.
There is no external fix, no panacea. No geographic cure, no perfect relationship, no spiritual or religious solution, no ideal job, career or marriage. Nothing external can “fix” us or make us happy or secure. Until we acknowledge this… until we take responsibility for our own experience, we’ll repeat negative patterns and attempt to avoid pain by focusing on the external, shallow and fleeting. Those around us may also get unwittingly and unwillingly drawn into our drama.
We owe it to ourselves and those we love to find the love, acceptance and answers we seek first within ourselves.
1. Know what the hell you are talking about, or know your lines and moves
2. Care about it, understand it, and think about how you can enrich someone’s day with even one bit of new knowledge, understanding or entertainment
3. Go to YouTube
4. Search Miss South Carolina
5. Watch it. Laugh and repeat as needed.
6. Remind yourself that if the WORST CASE SCENARIO came true, you still won’t EVER be as bad as this young woman, like such as…
7. Take deep breaths
8. Focus on individuals in the front. Just speak to them. If they think you’re dumb or boring or annoying, WHATEVER. Who cares. You know your shit and if they’re smart they’ll listen and learn something new.
9. Act like you’re dancing… just let loose and have fun.
my shoulder in the NYT vows column, at the wedding of my dear friend elizabeth. perhaps the most beautiful and unique wedding i have ever attended. very cool to see liz & lauren’s story memorialized in the failing new york times!
Like everything else from this wretched administration, the family separation policy was a terrible idea, executed poorly. But the stakes are inordinately higher than with all the preceding bumbles and fumbles because actual children’s lives are at stake and in our hands, right now, every minute of every day.
Each day since the policy was introduced at the end of April, roughly 70 children have been ripped from their parents and taken to child prisons, not knowing when or whether they will see their loved ones ever again. Can you imagine your own babies/toddlers/kids experiencing this trauma?
While some may debate the conditions in the facilities, no one can deny that the children are deprived of the one thing they actually need: their parents, and that the experience will adversely affect them for the rest of their lives.
Truth is relative but facts are not. Donald Trump’s administration created this policy. And Donald Trump, with the stroke of a pen in his tiny hand will soon undo it now that he’s being forced to. But the damage is done to those children and the toxic environment for all immigrants, asylum seekers, naturalized citizens and people of color in America persists. I for one cannot wait to vote in November to rebuke the GOP, the gross old party of Trump.
It does not sting so much anymore. My Dad has been gone eight years. I healed, realized what the heck happened, and forgave. When the whole #MeToo thing happened Sarah Silverman wrote a piece asking if you can love someone who did bad things. I can relate to that. My Dad did some really shitty things. To himself and those he loved. He was a clinically depressed alcoholic whose antics hijacked my early adult life. His repressed, undealt with emotions led to escalating depression, addiction and eventually terminal cancer. Those around him were sucked into the vortex as those who love addicts always are. We wanted to help him, we couldn’t and in the process, we were forced to put our own lives and desires on hold.
Letting go of all that took a while. At first there was relief. Then the anger came. I was also so tired of only hearing the good stuff about him. My Dad was handsome, charismatic and funny and everybody loved him. But at home he was very moody and emotionally unpredictable. He was kind of a dick to my Mom which is never a good thing for a kid to see. And I resented his utter selfishness. But over the years I’ve come to accept and forgive him. He was doing the best he could. He had a crappy young life himself in many regards. He himself dealt with a home life marked by emotional unpredictability –a father with a serious gambling problem who was frequently MIA, and a stoic Irish mother who thought life was something to be endured. Despite all that he managed to be a pretty good Dad when we were little. Fun, loving, virtuous. Teaching me lessons about this and that. Always around, always ready with a joke, a hug and a smile. He loved music and shared his love of it every night playing new vinyl on his Yamaha sound system. The Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Earth Wind and Fire, Michael Jackson, Steely Dan, Paul Simon … the list goes on and on but those stand out. He was funny and had endless jokes and stories.
He was a spiritual guy with real curiosity about metaphysics, which was contrary to his strict cultural identity as an Irish Catholic from Washington Heights. He had a brief stint with Transcendental Meditation, and I remember him reading Dianetics (which was advertised on TV relentlessly in the 80s). Later on when I lived in the city post grad school, he and I would have dinner once a week after he came in for his therapy appointment. We had such fun nights. He was in a good phase – steady, hopeful and sober. He said that he regretted his career choices. That he stuck with the financial advisor gig because he felt he had to give us a stable life. But in his heart of hearts he wished he had pursued something creative – being an actor, singer, performer or even a history professor.
I believe that suppressing his ambitions, desires and feelings led to his deterioration later in life. Once he was no longer needed as a provider he became rootless, remorseful and sought refuge in the bottom of the bottle. Just as our adult lives were beginning and as my parents’ retirements laid ahead of them, my Dad’s drama took over.
For me, it is therapeutic to put it all out there and be honest with myself and others about what happened. It’s a sigh of relief. It’s what allows me to look back with love. He was a good man with good intentions. He was my father, he gave me life and so much more … my sense of fun, my independence, my healthy skepticism and love of family. I cherish him and am grateful he was my Dad.
|A hundred times every day I remind myself that my inner and outer life are based on the labors of other men, living and dead, and that I must exert myself in order to give in the same measure as I have received and am still receiving.|
|ALBERT EINSTEIN, “The World as I See It,”
Ideas and Opinions, trans. Sonja Bargmann, p. 8 (1954).
looking at all the madness in the world right now, i am constantly questioning whether i am doing enough. for my children and the world they are inheriting.
– is it enough to just provide material comfort and moral guidance to one’s own children?
– is it enough to just write checks to causes we say we support?
– do we not have a broader responsibility to all children and to the earth to work every day to create a better world?