A lifetime ago, (1978 to be exact), when we were young and innocent, the Muse and I dated.  I say young and innocent but I don’t think the Muse ever had either of these two characteristics.  He was born with an old soul and always knew things beyond his years.  His sharp and inquisitive mind was always searching for knowledge on a myriad of subjects.  But, I’m veering from my point.  Let’s see, where was I.

Oh, yes.  Years ago he thought it a very good idea to introduce me to his favorite movie at the time, Harold and Maude.  Have any of you seen this?  It was made back in 1971 and starred Ruth Gordon and Bud Cort.  It has since become a cult classic, cult being an operative word.

The basic premise is a young man finds love with an 80 year old woman.  A very young man; 20 years old in fact.  He is a very morbid youth, always looking to shock his mother, even turning his Jag into a hearse and is obsessed with suicide.  Then one day at a funeral he meets an eccentric 80 year old woman and they proceed to have an affair and explore the meaning of life.

Maude seemingly has life all figured out.  She is a holocaust survivor and we, the audience, only know this by a screen shot of the number tattooed on her arm.  There are subtleties aplenty in this movie; some a 22 year old naïve Magical Mess didn’t get at the first viewing.

But the Muse got it, all of it and delighted in this film.  Thus the need to share it with me.  I would like to say I appreciated Harold and Maude with all of its nuance and deeper meaning.  But, alas, I did not.  All I could see was a young man in his prime, sexually involved with an 80 year old woman well, well past her prime.  I was only two years older than Harold and this didn’t fit in with my fairy tale picture of romance.  I could not reach beyond the physical incompatibilities to get to the heart of the matter.  I am 62 now and maybe still can’t.

I re-watched the movie a couple of times over the last several decades and, although I could appreciate the message the film makers were trying to make, I still couldn’t get over the age difference.  Was I shallow?  Perhaps.  I like to think of it as being romantic, but the end result was just the same.  I couldn’t embrace this movie.

Sad to say, I was not very receptive that evening and a little too harshly conveyed my thoughts to the Muse.  I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings as that was not my intent; but I’m quite sure I did.  I hadn’t yet corralled keeping all of my thoughts to myself.  I hadn’t yet realized I would hurt a sensitive Muse by my opinion.  I had a long way to go in the fine art of speaking only with kindness.  Why the Muse put up with me I’ll never know.

In retrospect, the movie makes very valuable points about life.  Even being 22, the Muse understood this.  I wish I had been so wise back then.

The Muse continues to confound me with his choice of movies.  He just recently watched Tremors 6.  Seriously, how and why do they make 6 movies about giant worms?

 

Welcome to the musings and meanderings of a hot-mess magical creature.  Since this title is too long for a blog, it will be known as magical mess.  (magicalmess.org)  I will share with you observations, adventures, misadventures, conversations and confessions of me, the magical mess.

I’ve done some cursory reading in the world of blog creation and I may not follow all the suggested rules.  I may not post every day, in fact you can count on it.  My posts may not follow grammatical rules as they are written thoughts that go streaming through my brain.  My words will sometimes be made up.  I write for myself and my close circle.  If anyone else jumps on, you will be very welcome.

In order to understand the following ramblings, perhaps I should describe to you a few of the cast of characters in my life.  These will not be the only ones,  I will introduce many others as we travel through this maze of mine.

We’ll start with: THE BEST FREIND, THE MUSE AND THE HUSBAND.

THE BEST FRIEND is more than that, she’s family.  We’ve gone through the last 35 years together in adventure, celebration, sorrow, illness and joy.  She’s the one I can count on to clean and organize my personal space, over and over again.  We share a creative brain; we share our highs and lows; we share our faith.  She is my “person” and if you’ve ever watched Grey’s Anatomy, you’ll know what that means.

THE MUSE and I go way back to the late 70’s.  He was one of the vital steps on my way to my husband.  We, too, have gone through good times and bad.  We are able to go for years with  no communication and suddenly pick up where we left off.  He makes me laugh like no other and understands the nuances of my humor.  This blog was his idea.  So, for good or ill, blame him.

THE HUSBAND is the love of my life.  I adore him now and for the last 39 years.  He is the Ricky to my Lucy.  No one else on earth could put up with this Magical Mess.  We share a home, a son, two grandsons, and an enduring love.  He drives me nuts as I do him.  Somehow, much to the amazement of our friends and family, we work.

Join me now as I stumble through my thoughts and share them with you.  I’ll be enjoying the ride, I hope you do too.

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton