November 22...

I remember coming home, my baby sitter bringing me home, as she did every day. It seemed earlier than usual and she seemed to be in a bad mood. When we got home my Mom was there. That was different because she was always at work and I was never brought home until it was dinner time.

The TV was on in the living room and my Dad was sitting there watching it. This was also strange because he should be downstairs in our bar waiting for customers or deliveries. Everyone was very quiet. I wanted to watch cartoons but my Dad told me no so I sat down on the floor and pouted a while and then began playing with my toys. I heard my Mom crying in the kitchen for a short while. Then she brought me a sandwich and a cup of milk. She sat next to my Mom, sniffling, and watching the TV.

It seemed as thought the television was on non-stop for about a week. I remember watching the "parade". All of the soldiers marching and the big cars. There was a horse with no one riding it and it had boots stuck in the stirrups backwards which I thought was very funny. There was a pretty lady in a black veil and two little kids. I remember seeing one of them salute the parade. All the time we watched my Mom would cry off and on.

I would not know the significance of that day, November 22, until much later in my life. I would hear people ask, "Where were you when Kennedy got shot?" but I had no real reference for that memory. It wasn't until Sept. 11, 2001 that I understood how those who lived through it felt. "Where were you when the towers fell?"

We do that. We humans. We seek to understand but when there is so much emotional pain we can only point out a state of reference and use memories to normalize it all. Just as it made no sense that two planes were hijacked and so many people were killed. It made no sense that a brilliant young man, a President, who instilled such renewed hope in this country would be shot down in his prime. When there is no sense, there is only reference.

Where were you?
Where would we be if this had never happened at all?
Makes you wonder...

Old Favorites...

Sometimes when there's not much to do and I need the company of an old friend, I turn to those books, CD's or films that I hold dear to my heart for one reason or another.

Tonight was one of those nights. Nothing much on TV - feeling kind of contemplative - I was reminded of the glory of Grey Gardens. Little Edie Beale and her mother Big Edie, the cousin and Aunt of Jackie Kennedy, are recluses living in their once stately East Hampton home surrounded by the filth and ruin of hard times. Yet, these two ladies, with their shared dreams and unique take on life and all that goes with it, endear themselves to me and to many others who've found this film in a big way. Coming from "old money" they now live on tinned pate and boiled corn on the cob. They eat scads of ice cream and share their memories of Little Edie's debutante days and Big Edie's singing career. Oh, they are grand. Little Edie with her "revolutionary costume of the day" and Big Edie with her endless stream of rag tag handy men. Amidst 52 cats, a bunch of rabid raccoons, an overgrown garden, and a house infested with fleas, these amazing women maintain their character and dignity in their own way. And through it all they are happy.

If you haven't seen this documentary, please do so. The Edie's are waiting and you won't regret a minute you spend with them!

Grey Gardens