I have been reading (re-reading) one of the great books ever written about television. I HIGHLY recommend it to anyone who wants not only a primer on that seminal cast from the first seasons, but also the inner workings of the entertainment industry, and what happened to the 60’s culture once they got a little older. I then went to the ol’ Netflix and watched the Michael Palin episode from the 4th season. The first half of that episode was dominated by one skit, “Miles Cowperthwaite“. While the skit itself is very funny (and pretty daring for 1978/1979), Dan Aykroyd’s use of body language during his entrance as “First Mate Spunk” is one of the funniest things I remember seeing on the show, and it lasts about 5 seconds. If you get a chance, go seek it out.
I watched “Live a Little, Love a Little” last night. What utter shit. Everyone knew it. Everyone making that film knew it was shit when it was made, and yet it got made. There was approximately one thing and one thing only that came from that movie that didn’t stink to high heaven was:
He was a beautiful, stoned, stoned fella. Next band I’m in, we’re covering this:
I find myself asking people for forgiveness. I ask that people forgive me for my big mouth, for my selfish acts and for my slights. Yet, as I examine more closely, I find that I, myself, am bearing grudges against long-time friends for perceived slights that, even if they were real, would be less than what I myself have done to people. But I hang on to these things. I hang on to them like old pieces of paper from a bygone time, an old song lyric, a photograph. But I’m a bitter man. I’m afraid that I am the only one yielding to the inexorable machinations of time. If I give in, maybe they’ll be warm and welcoming and say something like “I was thinking of calling you the other day…” but then there’s the fat that they DIDN’T. I did. Can I get over that? Things like this have a way of defining us in our old age, I think. Our parents, our sisters and brothers are all buried with a grudge they could not find the strength to mitigate. What territory in my soul am I protecting? People like me grow up feeling like they’ve been taken advantage of so they become needlessly vigilant when it comes to the imagined, artificial political boundaries surrounding their own withering souls. There’s nothing precious or rare there if I’m willing to give it away to anyone and everyone who asks for it.
Still, so many times, I come across people to whom I’ve been nothing but gregarious, generous, kind and easy-going and they STILL disappear from my life. That makes me bitter as well. Do you find that to be true?
My kids go down the street sometimes to play with some new neighborhood kids. Once, while they were all in school, I sent the mother a text message:
“Hi. I know you’re busy teaching life lessons at this moment but while I think of it I wanted to thank you for facilitating the unannounced visits of my kids. Please don’t hesitate to send them (your kids) here to play or to our humble cul de sac. Are you on the Facebook? How s the music program (where you teach)? Hope all is well. ”
I want you to tell me why I am unreasonable to expect even a “thank you” in return. It’s been over a week, and I know she received it. What am I supposed to do now? Am I supposed to wait to bump into her and then she’d be forced to acknowledge my (I think it’s fair to say) kind gesture? Seriously, tell me. What am I missing? What is it that I’m not getting?