Letter to son, for when he is able to read

Jake, here’s how your life is going to be.

1.  People walk all over you, and you don’t even realize how.  This lasts for about the first twenty years or so.

2.  People walk all over you, and it makes you angry, but you don’t have the skills to do anything about it.  You will rebel against us, for example, in your teens.  It will take longer to realize the subtle ways the rest of the world operates.

3.  You use skills you learned to keep people from walking all over you, but you still get angry.  This is your thirties and probably forties (I’ll let you know, I’m still just 34).  You might be known as a tyrant if you are loud enough.  You are pretty loud now, and you’re only three!

4.  You use skills you learned to keep people from walking all over you, and you figure out a way to be outwardly nice about it.  This happens only if you are lucky, and probably only takes effect in your fifties and beyond, if at all.

Love,

Dad

A lady eating, yes eating with a fork and napkin, while going 80 on the 101, Eastbound, about 9:30AM Sunday Morning

My wife snapped this from the passenger seat while I drove. We just about crashed the car cracking up about the ridiculous things people do on the freeway. Hopefully this will be a series.

Suicide and Mr. Magorium

Did anybody else realize, upon watching Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium, that there is a strong suicide-is-okay subtext? Those of us who have lost family members to suicide may have found themselves inexplicably crying upon realizing that this movie is (partially) about suicide. The main character rationally describes his plan to “leave” at a particular time, for no particular reason. The other characters keep asking, “Why,” just like families ask after there is a suicide.

I found that part cathartic and therapeutic–an artistic interpretation of how some people go on to “leave,” and some of the ramifications of their decision.

Of course it was also about magical toys and all that, and my kid loved it. It captures some of what was so great about going to a toy store when I was little–seemed like anything could be possible. The characters, even the mean ones, were drawn with love. Sure, the picture had some problems, but not too many children’s films (or adult films for that matter) tread this territory.

I can picture the meeting with the studio chief: “Ok, I’ve got this script I wrote, it’s a magic-toy kiddie movie that addresses some weighty adult issues like suicide and loss. Think Jumanji meets Terms of Endearment. What do you think?” Silence. Then, “Does it have a little bee that makes zany wisecracks?” I think these Hollywood types love the word zany–it’s on the box for The Three Amigos (VHS). I don’t see it in any other context.

I have read some of the reviews, and did not find much attention paid to this subtext of the film. Perhaps the writer/director didn’t intentionally include these things, but I suspect he did. Not too many hits when searching Google for “suicide” and “magorium” on the same page. Perhaps the writer/director would be happy to know that even though the movie isn’t taking in as many dollars as the (far inferior) Bee Movie, it affected me in a far more profound way. I’ll bet there was a suicide in that family.

See what you think about this: I got a similar reaction about Hollywoodland, that was also missed by the reviewers. In that movie, there was a potboiler-style exploration of why George Reeves would have been murdered, yet the ending shows a sad guy with problems who eventually just kills himself. This is a sensitive way of showing this concept: when you have a suicide in the family, people construct these elaborate explanations for what happened, yet in the end, it was just a desire for oblivion that led to the final act.

I am not a very faithful blogger, but I will post when I have an original interesting thought.