Dante's Third Circle of Hell
I love my kids. I really do. There's probably not anything I wouldn't do for them. I would walk through the fires of hell. Thus . . . I spent yesterday at a concert with these young men. I tried to go with an open mind. But, in fact, hell doesn't begin to describe it. Every song sounded the same, the sound system sucked, and mostly what I heard were teenybopper girls SHRIEKING. High-pitched shrieking. I spent $20 for tickets--multiplied by younger daughter and two friends--and $25 on T-shirts. It was 95 in the shade. And when these young men came out for a bow, I stood up, screamed, "THANK YOU!" and then I was shrieking. Shrieks of joy.
Which goes to show you, even hell has an end.
We've been talking on the blog about mining your life for your books, stealing people's traits . . . and when you write comedy, I would venture to say it starts to get personal. I think the best stand-ups are the ones who talk about their real life. A comic riff, like Seinfeld, on nothing. Or everything. In my comedic books, I have riffed vicariously through my characters on egotistical authors, thongs, the self-help guru who will sleep with any young thing but his wife, turning the big 4-0, the fact that I can't cook, fear of flying, the time I took six xanax to get on a plane flight and lived to tell about it (they were only .5 milligrams, and for the record, they did NOTHING to calm me), evil mothers-in-law (she actually temps in hell), the way the NY Giants screw me every season, my insane love for the Yankees, and disobedient dogs. And so, I imagine, I will one day use my visit to this particular circle of hell in a book.
And while I was there . . . I was strangely comforted by that thought. You see, those are two hours I CAN NEVER GET BACK. And so it's nice to know, "Heck, I can use this."
OH! AND . . . on the way home, the girls were starving and BEGGED me for food from this restaurant. I had never been to one. Never eaten their food. Never knew! I was appalled!!! Do you know they have a cardboard stand-up cut-out of a COW in front? My baby son said, "Look, Mama, it's a MOO." And I was struck by the fact that they have a cute black and white "moo" out front . . . and yet people were driving through to EAT the cute moo. This reaffirmed my commitment to vegetarianism. AND please? A moo? Sick. SICK! What is this company thinking putting poor Mr. Moo there? Oh, yeah. Material.
Thoughts? When life hands you a bit of insanity, are your comforted by the fact that it's material? And how was YOUR weekend.
And special birthday wishes to Spy and Karmela.
21 comments:
I didn't know Arby's had a Moo. They must be competing with Chick-Fil-A's Moo that holds the sign "Eat More Chicken".
Not good to know about the Xanax. The last time I was on a plane was 5 years ago. I was hoping I'd be able to ask for Xanax from my Dr. if I ever have to get on a plane again. (I've never used the med, but I've heard that it works.)
I'm one RWA member that is not happy about Nats not coming back to Texas every third year anymore. Poo.
Actually, it was pre 9-11, so it's been more than 5 years.
Heather;
Well, I told my doctor it didn't help. He then ordered up 1 mg (instead of .5). I take two and fly just fine . . . then about a year ago, I stopped needing it. I just eventually had done it enough (medicated) for the phobia to wear off. Believe me, you have my empathy about the fear of flying.
E
I constantly mine my husband's family for material. Especially my mother in law -- my way of keeping a balance and staying silent in the moment. My family plays too much into a stereotypes so can't always use them.
I take xanax because of panic attacks. It works, but you need to get the right dosage and that's probably different for each person. I don't use it a lot but I've needed it for the last few weeks because I was in a car accident.
I use it when we fly too. Not one of my favorite things to do!
Tina
Hi Tina:
When I saw Eastern Promises, the Russian family reminded me SO much of mine--and every Russian stereotype of the brooding, dark, yet passionate Russian. Sometimes our families just fit the stereotypes. ;-)
E
I've always found it interesting how we Americans linguistically distance ourselves from some of the foods we eat.
We don't consume the bloody decaying flesh of animals. We eat beef. Pork. Mutton. Venison.
I'm a wannabe vegan, but like Vincent Vega said in Pulp Fiction, "Bacon tastes good. Porkchops taste good."
Sometimes I can't resist.
Thanks for the thought-provoking post, Erica. Maybe I'll try again soon to give up flesh foods. I know it's a healthier and kinder way to live.
As for Hell...there's a lounge there, but the beer's always warm and the coffee's always cold. There's a guy with a cheap microphone, and there's a sequencer playing a perpetual loop from blown speakers, and the guy is wearing a lime-green tuxedo and sings "Tie A Yellow Ribbon" off-key for all eternity. :)
P.S. Happy birthday Spy and Karmela!
Jude;
Your version of hell in interesting. Sounds like an airport hotel bar I was once stuck in.
E
Turn around is fair play. You accompanied them to a concert, they should tag along with you to a concert of your choice!
I love most of the bands my kids like, so that wouldn't work for me. The whole family does Def Leppard every year (they usually stop in MInneapolis yearly, which so rocks). But it never fails that we usually get seats behind some crazed fan or drunk who insists on conducting the entire concert, with sweeping gestures and frequents lifts of her shirt to flash the band (yes, my son got an education this time around; he's seventeen, he probably thought he was in heaven while it was indeed moments of hell for me).
M
michele:
Usually, we like a lot of the same music. My oldest (age 17) is continually amazed at what's on my iPod. Like . . . how do YOU, least cool person in the universe, have COOL music on your iPod. :-)
But this . . . this was 9-year-old baby girl. Her first concert. So I suffered.
E
It's nice when your kids are adults. My son took us to a Blue Men show last year. :) And no fast food restaurants either. The only fast food restaurant I go to is Subways.
I mine my life in my books. I have pets in my wip, and I even mine my dog and cat's lives. One of my protagonists is a combination of an aunt and a friend. My friend knows about it, my aunt doesn't - and never will.
Erica, small consolation, but you gave me a good morning chuckle! Thanks for that!!
Hi Edie:
Because there is over a 15-year span in the ages of my kids--17, 12, 9, 2 . . . I will be dealing with this insanity for years to come. :-)
E
Hi Maureen:
Glad my misery amuses you. ;-)
E
Erica,
I have to ask. How do you get your proteins? The only reason I ask is because I had a friend almost die because she took on a total vegetarian diet (she didn't eat meat period, or anything with protein.) and this was before they came out with a study that said that vegetarians didn't live a "healthy" lifestyle.
As for families living a stereotype, I don't know about that. I just found out that I'm Spanish, Italian, Greek, and Romanian, with a smattering of Irish, and yet I can't see any stereotypes.
Hi Lou:
I eat tofu, garbanza beans, and am more macrobiotic than simply "vegetarian"--so I will occasionally have a couple of ounces of fish. I eat sushi about once a month (tuna). But it's definitely possible to eat very healthy as a vegan or vegetarian or macrobiotic. You just can't do without any research or forethought. And there are some vegetarians, for instance, who will eat packaged crap--or even junk food. But as long as it's not meat or dairy . . . and so no . . . I think you have to think about what you put in your body. I also eat yogurt--so that's also a little bit of a modification.
E
Hi Lou:
And your family background is interesting. My dad's side is Russian. My kids' father is Mexican. My mom is Slavic. And each ethnicity has their stereotypical things that make me laugh,
E
Really? I mostly follow the macrobiotic diet ... usually. I'm a bit flexible with it. This year, however, has been a study in resisting those things which I know are good for me. I've never, in eighteen years, eaten so badly, and I can feel it.
I know a lot of people mine the bad, the uncomfortable for their art. I have one adult student who consoles herself with that idea. I don't think about it. If I thought about what I shared, I think I wouldn't be so brave, LOL.
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