The Eagle & Child

Archives: Miscellaneous

Saturday (CST) musings...(but the entry'll say it's Sunday)

4 years ago, on August 12, I asked my then girlfriend to marry
me.  She said, "Yes".   I got married.  If I may dive head-first into the
murky world of cliché for a moment, marriage is both a blessing and a
curse.  Mostly blessing, of course.  Marriage does take work,
however, and along the way one runs into many times of extreme
frustration, sometimes a little bit of depression (not the clinical
kind).  What else can one expect out of a partnership of
two very different people, each with his or her own way of doing
things.  Chances are, unless, like Jerry Seinfeld, you "fall head
over heels" for yourself, your partner is going to be the opposite of
you in some very key ways--having a similar sense of humour is very
nice, but that's not going to eliminate those "moments".

In those moments of extreme frustration, in those down moments, I wander over to my CD tower and pull out U2's Wide Awake in America, put it in the stereo, and listen, at high volume, to the live version of their song "Bad" (not
the Michael Jackson song).  It's one of the most moving
performances of their career.  It always hits the spot in those
down moments.  I don't listen to U2 much any more, but in specific
cases they are always the best.  After "Bad" I would probably move
on to The Joshua Tree or Achtung Baby, depending on how my mood has developed.  Tonight, however, I (for some reason or other) played Bob Dylan's Oh Mercy instead,
which turned out to be just the right thing for the mood I was
in.  I think a natural progression from this would be The Charity of Night by Bruce Cockburn.

As a matter of interest, I find that one of the more successful
lift-your-spirits songs is Jackie Wilson's "Your Love (Keeps Lifting Me
Higher)".  I find it almost impossible to not burst into joyful
tears at that song.  Of course, when you're down, you're more
likely to look for music to keep you there, or at the most, lift
you gently out of that state of mind.  (Other excellent
lifter-upper options: bluegrass music and anything by Klaus
Wunderlich, master of the organ).

Anyway...

Tomorrow (Sunday) my wife and I head into Saskatoon for a little
early anniversary celebration.  We're spending the night in
an undisclosed location.  In the afternoon we will be attending
the Best of the Fringe's One Man Lord of the Rings, per Becky's hearty recommendation.

It's interesting how sensitive we get about the people and things we hold dear.  In her review of One Man Lord of the Rings, Becky referred to The Lord of the Rings as  "Peter Jackson's cinematic masterpiece".  As I read those words, all my Lord of the Rings geekiness burst through, and I took issue with Becky's words.  Peter Jackson's
masterpiece?  I asked.  Who's story, pray tell, is
this?  Becky gave me a well-deserved "Down, boy", and pointed out
that the play was actually based on the films (the play involves doing
many voices and impressions of the characters in the films).

This, in turn, led to a confession from yours truly.  I had started reading Bored of the Rings,
National Lampoon's parody of Tolkien's masterpiece, a number of years
ago.  I couldn't finish it.  Why?  Because...because...I
was a little offended by it.  I'm not exactly sure why. 
Ordinarily I am a huge fan of parody, and I thought French & Saunders' parody of the Lord of the Rings
films (for their Christmas special) was, in my humble opinion,
brilliant.  From what I've read, Tolkien seems to have been a
rather serious fellow, at least when it came to his life's work, I
can't imagine what he would think of a parody of it.  During his
lifetime I know he would have disapproved of a film version of his
books.  I wonder if Peter Jackson's brilliant work would have
changed his mind.

I had a similar experience with Simon Birch, a movie "inspired" by John Irving's A Prayer for Owen Meany.  Owen Meany
just happens to be one of my favourite books (and, in fact, would go on
my bibliography for "Life 101"), and John Irving had requested that the
book title not be the film title, as the film deviated so much from the
book.  These two facts predisposed me to dislike the film. 
And I did, for the most part.  It got pretty good reviews, and
most people who saw the film (particularly if they hadn't read the
book) loved it.  I never will.  The book is too dear to
me.  (Peter Jackson, on the other hand, had to tread much more lightly when it came to interpreting Lord of the Rings for the big screen, given the book's immense following.  He did a wonderful job.)

An even more personal incident on my recent road trip also reflects
this sensitivity with regard to things held dear.  It was late and
we were tired and playing cribbage one night.  One thing led to
another and I made a silly comment about kitty-litter (another one of
those you-had-to-be-there moments), which turned into a joke revolving
around my friends' concern over my parenting skills.  The joke
devolved to a point where I had to say, "All right, that's
enough.  That's my daughter you're talking about." 
Ordinarily, had it been about a faceless and imaginary person, the
joke would have been very funny (given the hour and our lack
of sleep the previous two nights) and would have led to many tears of
laughter and much shortness of breath.

Anyway, it just made me think about how context and content is so important in humour and life.