Last night we had friends over for dinner and during the course of discussing various grandchildren, one of them said, "I hate to admit it, but I've actually seen the chipmunks film, the Sqweakquel". I was so relieved I practically kissed her. I promptly confessed I'd seen it with my foster granddaughter. This was right before I loaned them "Up". Thus is the power of tiny children. I waited decades to watch a movie that wasn't G or PG13, and here I am back to G again, having worked my way up to R. Next we were making playdates between granddaughters. It's a kind of regression, but this time I'm more comfortable with it. At my time of life I understand that it really isn't important if I see the new hot movie or read the bestseller. I no longer attempt to "keep up". When your body slows you down, it's annoying but at the same time a relief, because you can just walk around with a tennis racket without actually having played a game, or even better yet, not carry a racket. Who cares? We've all had friends who, after a squash match keeled over with a heart attack. There are no guarantees. The equation between fitness and luck shifts. You stop taking credit for your health and begin letting go.
It's freeing. It may not be a march downtown with banners, but we often do that as well, because so what if you land in jail? It's going to spoil your career? Hah! Call me a felon, an unsophisticated moviegoer, an inactive senior, a socialist. Label me any old way you want. 'Cause sticks and stones can break my bones, but labels - well, they belong on soup cans. I am way too complex, and also way too simple, for any of the social shortcuts. No self justification necessary.
No comments:
Post a Comment