Is it me or is living with a middle-aged man a slightly psychotic experience? I swear there’s more than one guy inside. And it’s always a surprise which one I’m going to get.
How about you? Sound familiar?
Last night my husband sweetly offered to bring home some dvds to help me recuperate from the flu. As always, I requested fluffy romantic comedies–for the standard uplifting effect.
But Casey brought home not one, but two, melancholy love stories with old people. What was he thinking!
At 46 myself, I can’t really call them old people without affecting karmic retribution–but they’re older than me–and usually that isn’t the case when it comes to romantic movies.
It’s true that I’ve grown weary of the twenty-something love stories, but I wasn’t expecting gray-haired kisses with leads as old as my father.
Though after viewing Last Chance Harvey, my pale face and bed head didn’t look so bad. I actually felt youthful. Maybe there is something to seeing someone who looks and feels lousier than you.
This morning’s dvd, “Everything’s Fine,” starred Robert de Niro, and it didn’t even have any romance or comedy. Have I said, what was he thinking?
Do you have these moments?
And yet, this film is so rich, in every moment, and so subtly authentic–that it brings me to tears. The fresh spring kind. The ones that make me smile. Even in the depth of sadness.
And here’s the rub. These stauchy, old guys make mine appear fresh with possibility. Maybe subconsciously, my husband meant to juxtapose himself against these leading men. Give me hope. A better ending.
Or maybe I needed to have tears running down my face along with double ear infections and a swollen throat.
What do you think?