"Sliding Doors" and "P.S., I Love You"

New Year's weekend, with all chores, errands, parties done, I sat down to watch a movie.   I don't even recall when the movie, "P.S., I Love You" was released.  It was probably this summer.  Further, I am not a particular fan of Hillary Swank.  I think she has talent, but her movies appeal to a different demographic than mine.  

Until this one.

It has everything a chick flick needs for me: a spiritual flavor, hot Irishmen with great buns, wonderful scenery of Ireland, my soul's home, and a redemptive ending.  The basic premise is the fact that Holly's husband, Gerry, has died after a brief illness.  But he had enough time to organize a series of letters to be delivered to Holly after his funeral under a variety of circumstances.  In the end, Gerry accomplishes his post mortem goal.  The journey they take while communicating from different spectrum, is wonderful.

It had been a long time since I had seen a good chick flick.  The last one was ten years ago.  It was called "Sliding Doors".  A c.f. of a different flavor.  Gwyneth Paltrow is Helen, the classic nice girl dating a philandering loser.  On a particularly bad day, Helen misses the tube to work.  And then, she doesn't .  From there, the movie splits into two different scenarios:  what happens after she misses the tube and what happens when she doesn't.  

As a creative type, I really allow movies to resonate to my core.  It doesn't happen often.  Usually I just find the small sign or message I am supposed to receive.  What resonated with these two in particular was the synchronicity of life.  How things can turn on a dime.  For example, through a series of odd circumstances I went to a Christmas party 21 years ago.  It was in a location that held unpleasant memories for me, there were too many arrogant bankers with bad comb-overs, none of us wanted to be there.  We were getting ready to leave.

And then, my future husband walked across the crowded room.

He wasn't supposed to be there either.  Traffic "allowed" him to get back to the burbs in record time and this was an opportunity to introduce himself to the community.  The comb-overs, who were his bankers, were just as snotty to him.  And he walked across the crowded room to meet me.

We talked for quite a while and felt the instant connection that has never dimmed.  It was a spark.  Trite though it may be, just like in the movies.  

Synchronicity -- Carl Jung's meaningful coincidences.  Startling serendipity.  It is with us everywhere.  We need only to tune in.  

Further, and this may be a stretch for some to accept, I think it allows us to receive messages from our guardian angels and loved ones.  For many months after she died, we would be talking about my mother and a bottle cap would fall to the ground every single time. My husband and I always "trust your gut" and follow the voice of God that leads us exactly to where we need to be.

It led us to each other over twenty years ago. 

That is why I love these movies.  Oh, and yes, I am the ultimate incurable romantic.

Fast Food Creates Rude Behavior

I have been wanting to address this topic for a very long time.  As do many folk, I feel that we, as a society are getting ruder, more self absorbed and more impatient.  I am not casting stones here.  There have been moments that I am not proud of and I like to think that I am ascending, not descending.  Evidence concurs with this.  

But people, maybe it isn't our fault.  Like everything else that sniffs of unpleasantness about the human nature, we can make this a syndrome.  Rather than correct it, we can fight to have it instated in the DSM-IV (or V?).  That way, someone will write a book, others will read it and absolve themselves of all responsibility and need to improve.  Think about it.  There are syndromes for children of alcoholics, highly sensitive people, highly insensitive people, orphans, children who grew up without pets, people who can't stand plants, people who smoke for sixty years and then blame the tobacco companies.  The lists is endless as is the book describing the syndrome, the manual and workshop offered for recovery, the author who gets a spot on a talk show.  All this allows us to embrace the problem as an excuse instead of working out a solution.

I am not denouncing the wounded of this world.  But many wounded do not embrace the syndrome du jour, but rather realize the need for change.  "That sucked and I don't want to feel that way so how can I reframe my life for the better?"  

But I have found the syndrome to end all syndromes:  The Rudeness Syndrome.  And the Fast Food industry is to blame.

We have precedent here.  They already have fessed up for burning little old ladies with hot coffee.  

The rudeness syndrome occurred to me as I was in the car with the kids going through the drive thru.  The particular vendor doesn't matter, because this is pervasive and industry wide.  I pulled up to place my order.

"Yes, I would like a number 7 with..."

"Medium or Large?"

"Large."

"Cheese or not".

"Not."

As I try to continue and finally complete the order, I counted 15 interruptions before receiving the dispensation to move ahead.  This in a three minute time frame.  If we had interrupted our parents that much, a saponification mouthwash would have followed.

But somewhere along the way, we gave up or gave in.  I am guilty of interruptus impatiens (I think the DSM requires latin to make the syndrome official.) But I am a victim.  I have been going through fast food drive thrus for the vast majority of my life.  They caused it.  I have been trained at the feet of the corporate motivation masters.  All for their efficiency.  Interrupting has become an accepted phenomena pervasive through all aspects of society:  media, politics, ladies who lunch, men who don't, big business, entertainment.  IT IS EVERYWHERE.  We have become inured, nay even find it acceptable.

That teaches us all that what we have to say is too important to wait for while the other person finishes whatever is unimportantly coming out of their mouth.  No one is listening.  Everyone is just waiting to speak.  It is the downfall of society and it lies at the feet of the companies who are teaching their employees to but in and ask, "Do you want fries with that?"

Couldn't these companies find people with enough ROM to remember to ask at the end of each value meal and sacrifice a couple of seconds to save what is left of proprieties in society?  Appparently not.  And that makes us all victims.  We could get a big settlement.  We could get a bigger one if the interruption syndrome got us so upset that we too spilled hot coffee in our laps.

C'mon people, help save the planet from complete anarchy.  Let's start by telling these automatons that we will be happy to answer their questions at the end of the order and in the meantime, please let us finish.

Let's do it for our kids sake.

In the meantime, I am sure some pharmaceutical company is working on meds that will alleviate the stress we engender from fast food rudeness.

And so the next step in my journey begins.  As usual and in perfect time, the inner muse has drop kicked me (persuasion and new age music just wasn't cutting it) into the world of blogging.  I am doing what I usually do, jumping in with both feet, and trusting that my words will resonate with some people out there. 

2008 saw a major door in our life closing.  For over seventy years, there has been a "family" vacation home.  In 2007, after several years of consistent rudeness and conflict, and after much rumination and mourning, my husband asked to be bought out.  It took fifteen months and some microdramas within the larger venue as well as some petty maneuvers.  But now it is final.  And from what I understand about families, not that uncommon.  I do not understand the conflict between sharing memories and making more as an extended family unit versus I was here first or you can't come now.  The generation prior to mine and my husband's had the Act One of this karma.  While we had hoped to put an end to the cycle, clearly no one else wanted to.    It was a coincidence not lost on us that the death nell for the status quo came when my husband and I made a series of very major life changes.  We did not expect it to shake the family tree, but it did.  Right down to the roots.

But while we have been mourning the loss of good times that will no longer come, we have also realized that this is what is meant to be.  Act Two is the final act that will involve our branch of the tree.  Exeunt.  I don't even think they noticed we'd gone.

This has allowed a door or two to open.  It always does.  One of these doors is this blog.  So I begin by stating what was and making room for what will be.  The fact that I am writing this is a big step in itself.

I recall a quote from Norman McLean's "A River Runs Through It." :

"Each one of us here today, will, at some time in our lives, look upon a loved one who is in need and ask the same question:  "We are willing to help, Lord, but what , if anything is needed?"

But it is true we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give, or, more often than not, that part we have to give is not wanted.  And so it is those we live with and should know who elude us.  But we can still love them.  We can love completely with out complete understanding."

Norman McLean (or the screenwriter) really liked to comma splice, didn't they?