Have you seen it? Fabulous movie. Some “staff writer” at Washington Post gave it a good review though said at times it was “heavy -handed.” (The only thing worse than these critics is an anonymous one). And that the book was worse, according to said staffer: “stilted and self-conscious.” Apparently the script writer “saved” it from being a piece of crap. Give me a break. This staff writer should be so stilted. I love how these critics think they know a damn thing about writing. And I hope that “stilted” writer is taking every penny of that bad writing to the bank.
At any rate, if you haven’t seen it (and you should) Ann Bancroft’s character realizes that when her sister’s (Ellen Burstyn, I think) husband dies, she sleeps with Ann’s husband, one time, out of grief, and so Ann understandably comes unglued (a funny word as you’ll soon see why). Ann’s character figures this has happened by smelling her sister’s perfume on her husband. She then breaks all her sister’s knick-knacks and glues them to her wall, I think in a back entry-way, in a reminder to both her husband and sister that she will never forget or forgive them. Thirty years later, she finally tears the wall down.
My family and friends (and the town library and town folk) all let me down by not organizing and showing up for my reading in a town I should have been surrounded by family and friends, in a town we have had friends and roots since 1850 (well, you know what I mean, we aren’t quite that old). The book is SET in this town for heaven’s sake!
Our local distillery had three boards of beautiful cheese boards put together for four people (the last one had 30 people attending)–a humiliating affair that has me doubtful if I’ll ever return to a place I really liked a lot.
Nobody slept with my husband as far as I know (let’s not open that can of worms) but perhaps the number of folks who let me down equals the severity of the offense.
I was thinking of smashing shot glasses and gluing them to my wall at my camp, but that wouldn’t be very original. And probably a lot of work since I doubt I can retain feeling bitter for 30 years–wouldn’t be worth the trouble if I just remain pissed off for, say, ten years. Right?
Actually, I don’t know how long I’ll stay pissed off. I’m not sure. Staying pissed off only hurts me (like those people always say about needing to forgive people who murder their loved ones). I never really believe them, though. Most of them. But I imagine they are indeed right and I’m grateful my loved ones are all alive to not attend my reading, to be selfish, disinterested, and thoughtless. So I will concentrate on being grateful for that. 🙂
Last week there was a decapitated bird left on our deck here and I took it as a bad omen–(some annoying cat no doubt); but perhaps if this is the only bad thing to happen to me, I can count my lucky stars.
And I will.
Oh, I was thinking of buying my daughter a really cool cheese board,with a drawer in it that had a knife and a neat little spatula deal, and this really neat book of how to put together beautiful boards for company–after all, her husband is from Wisconsin and they are all now cheese-heads. Had it saved on Amazon. On top of everything else, I have to find a new idea for her birthday since giving her that under the circumstances will feel like my gluing those knickknacks to the wall.
Still, I liked it. Imagine I can’t even buy it for myself now.
But for now, I’m going to feel bad. And be pissed off. I’m not sure how long.
I hope not 30 years.