Wrinkles in “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”

We decided to see the movie The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel after watching its preview about a month ago.

I had not read any reviews or blogs about the movie and watching it last night was quite enjoyable.  However, this isn’t a critique or a recommendation about a lovely movie. This is about me being astonished!

You have to realize that I live in The Land of the Shallow, The Land of Botox, The Land of Glamor and the place where you probably have more plastic surgeons than teachers.

But I digress … I was talking about being astonished.

Two of the greatest actresses in the world – pillars of British cinema, had meaty roles (not an easy feat if you are female actor over 40), and they absolutely looked their age or even older. Both Judi Dench and Maggie Smith are 77 years old, and it seemed like a knife had not touched their faces.

Judi Dench

And they looked old.

Wrinkle and more wrinkles adorned their faces, and their skin was sagging all over the screen. Worse, it doesn’t look like they work out at all. The horror.

So once I got over my sick curiosity about their unstretched skin, I shifted to the place I always go to:

Why? And how come?

Don’t they have agents who encourage them to “freshen up”? Don’t they have friends who tell them “you look rather tired, my dear”. What’s wrong with them?

How come they age gracefully and wrinkly, and the rest of us don’t? How come I cannot think of any American actress who allows herself to age without “improvement”? How come I have friends, and not just one, who would rather die than leave the house without makeup.  And, why do I dye my hair – a question my husband frequently asks.

I know that we are the crazy ones. I know that we bought into this “youthful image” syndrome, and the biggest compliment you can give someone is to tell them they look younger than their age.

Apparently neither Judi nor Maggie care about it.

And yet they were bigger than life, charismatic and regal. And they were beautiful.

Wrinkles and all.

LA-NYC-DC-LA

English: Octopus vulgaris, Octopodidae, Common Octopus Staatliches

Just for today, I have this image of LA as an octopus without a heart.

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So here’s my disclaimer: I live in LA and just came back from a short visit to NYC (5 days) and DC(4 days). So I really don’t know anything about those east coast cities and I do know a lot about LA.

I used to frown upon the snobbish attitude of the East Coasters but I’m beginning to change my mind.

Is the weather better in LA? I must be joking to even pose this question. The weather in NYC and DC is horrid!

Is it easy to be close to nature, valleys, mountains, parks in LA instead of seeing highrises all around you? My wise office mate Candace reminded me of all the beauty in LA. And Candace is always right.

Other than that? It is embarrassing to admit that after visiting these two cities for just a short time, it’s hard to be impressed by my city. Yes, I can come up with many great attributes of LA, but I will not be that sincere. Yes, it does look like women here have more Botox and facelifts than any other place in the world, so should I be proud of that record?

Both NYC and DC (hot and humid, which I abhor) were vibrant, exciting, energetic, and the most important attribute was seeing feet… I’m talking about people actually walking … like you can see their whole bodies … unlike L.A., where all we see is the top half behind a steering wheel.

They have public transportation, and ‘yes’ the subway can be dangerous, but on the other hand we’ve got drive-by shootings …

And, why don’t we have more theatre here? God knows we have the space to build it?

The Broadway Theatre, showing the musical The Color Purple 1681 Broadway, Manhattan, New York City (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What Los Angeles lacks more than anything else is a sense of intimacy and community.

There are hundreds of reasonable explanations, but it really doesn’t make any difference. An explanation is not a justification. It’s still a sleepy town, and it is still not vibrant. And you can talk about the emergence of DTLA and places like Silverlake etc, but how many theatres do we have here? How often do you bump into another human being and most importantly, how often do you walk?

Let’s face it, in LA you have to drive your car in order to walk, as in: “Let’s drive to Santa Monica, so that we can walk in 3rd street promenade”. Something is wrong with this picture!

Did you ever go to a place that felt “just right”? Maybe you were a tourist, a new resident – but did you feel like you were going back to a familiar place and you had that feeling in your bones that you had come home … and that even if this is not home, you can make it a home? That is how I felt in New York City and Washington D.C.

English: Looking south from Top of the Rock, New York City

So, I’ve lived in LA for more than 35 years. I love my house, my beautiful backyard and many other things, but it’s not home – at least not for today.

To Tell the Truth

“I would want to hear the truth”, the woman said confidently to her friend.  Soon after, they stopped talking because she was offended by the truth when she heard it.

One of the polygraphs used by Thomas Jefferson, a portable version (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This isn’t unusual.  A lot of my friends and colleagues say they want “to know the truth” about themselves. (As if!)

Many years ago, a friend noted that no one wants to know the truth, unless it’s a compliment about themselves. Everyone present argued with him, including me.  Almost thirty years later, I have to admit that he was soooo right.  Even though I’ve struggled with the concept of honesty, truthfulness, and direct response for a long time, every once in a while I still believe it when someone says, “Be honest with me”.

Just this afternoon, the understanding that no one, yes, no one wants to hear the truth unless it’s a positive statement about them, became crystal clear.  So clear, actually, that I would like to proselytize against the truth – especially when someone asks you for it.

My point: If someone bothers to ask you to tell them “the truth” as it relates to them, it simply means that they are seeking approval. That’s all.

“Please tell me what she said about the performance”, asked the friend who wanted to hear that she did very well. “It was great”, I said, “but the singing was a bit off pitch. Not noticeable, but just a bit so”.  You could hear her face fall.

Limestone Technologies Inc. Polygraph Professional Suite. Computerized polygraph system. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“I am tired of therapists agreeing with me all the time”, the new client said, smiling bravely, “so I really want you to tell me what you see and what I’d be able to change”.   Silly me, I answered truthfully. Obviously, he didn’t come back.

That was many years ago, and I’ve become so much wiser since then. Now, when a client asks me that question, I know they want to tell them they are good and perfect; and mostly that they were right when they fought with their mother, brother or boyfriend.

Even with my closest friends, I’ve learned to shy away from a direct response.

A friend tried to explain why she should stay with an emotionally abusive husband.  She asked my opinion about staying with him.  It’s implied she wants to know the truth.  I know better. I know that she feels embarrassed about not being able to leave. I know that she does not like herself, and maybe even struggles with self-contempt. Do you really believe that she wants me to say “you fool, leave the sob a.s.a.p.”?  No, she wants me to say that it’ll be OK.

Does this mean I’m a liar or a hypocrite?

The answer is nuanced.  I think I’m giving them the perfect and most direct answer to the real question.  You see, indirectly – they are asking me whether I will support them, and of course I will.  My friend wants to know that I will be there for her; that I accept her even though she is compromising and even though she had always claimed she’d never tolerate such treatment.

When someone asks you for the truth about themselves, it stands to reason that the request comes from a sincere place – and it does.  What could be more sincere than anxiety, hesitation, doubt and approval seeking?

It’s just that the question was asked inaccurately.

Honesty (Photo credit: Fluffymuppet)

Occupation: Jail inmate

Here’s where the inspiration for this blog came from: I was reading the “North County Times”, a newspaper placed by our door when visiting our timeshare. In a section called THE BACK PAGE you find small articles, the likes of which I seldom see in the LA Times, or in the NY Times.

An article that caught my attention was about a man from India celebrating his 100^th birthday.  This man was a former Mr. Universe, despite being only 4 feet 11 inches tall.

Enjoying reading about achievements in the face of poverty and other hurdles, I was quite inspired to read that most of his serious training occurred while he was in prison.

The Andaman Cellular Jail was the shadiest prison of the British rule in india. Now it is National Memorial and tourist attraction at Port Blair, Andaman. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Scanning the newspaper further, I saw this headline at the bottom of the page: “Former fire captain convicted of drunken driving made alcohol in jail”.  I was stupefied.

Two convicts. Two jailed inmates.  One growing up in grinding conditions and still managing to use his time to follow his aspirations.  The other – a fire captain, who obviously had to go through grueling training and tests,  who used his time in jail quite creatively, using ingenuity to supply himself with the substance that put him in prison in the first place.

Isn’t it amazing how different we people can be?

In a place where spirits often get crushed, and probably so much more so in India 75 years ago; one manages to reach the height of his ambition, and the other, a week ago, managed to achieve the height of his addiction.

The human spirit is so surprising and shocking at the same time.

Most of us do whatever it takes to give our children all they need and want – a loving home, food, school, private tutors, dance and ballet lessons, and yet some may end up rebellious, quitting school or college, and seem to lack ambition. Others, may come from a disadvantaged and tough childhood; poor and without a lot of encouragement.  And, yet they posses a spirit of desire, passion and persistance.

In all the years of working with people, I’ve not yet managed to understand how one acquires the character trait of dogged and relentless pursuit of a goal, while others are overcome by their fear and despair.

Manohar Aich is celebrating his 100 birthday with his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren in Kolkata, India.

Captain John Hines of Long Beach was sentenced to four years in prison for violating his probation by making alcohol in jail.

I Will Make You Drunk (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Each used their time in jail to gain something they love.

Even in jail, we can achieve our goals, follow our dreams and have our spirits soar.

Just like in the case of the dimiunitive Mr. Universe, sometimes even our jailers are astonished by our devotion to our goal, so much so that they are swept up by the dream as well.

Related articles

• 100-YEAR-OLD MR. UNIVERSE: Manohar Aich Credits Positivity (VIDEO) (blippitt.com)

Unconditional Love…..Hah!

Image via Wikipedia

Unconditional love … Hah!

I believe the term came from Christianity, ascribing unconditional love from Jesus towards us mortals. Since then the term has been used and abused.

Women scream in therapy about wanting to be loved unconditionally by their partners, despite being bitchy and critical, and husbands’ concept of unconditional love by their wives is to never go without sex…

There aren’t enough hours in the day for me to write comprehensively about unconditional love – this prevailing fallacy of the last thirty years or so – so I’ll limit my comments to mothers and daughters.

Mothers express eternal love towards their daughters, while proving once again that talk is cheap … so, let’s  just start with two recollections:

One: A friend, years ago, leading with seductiveness, sexy attire and all, shared with me that she didn’t want her teenage daughter to join her at the pool of her newfound boyfriend, because the boyfriend would desire her daughter instead. So, she convinced the girl to visit a friend.

Two: A relative; a single mother, beating up her daughter who refused to listen. I had to contain her, because I was afraid she was going to break the child’s bones. Years later, the daughter told her mother she would kill her if she touched her again.  

But we don’t have to go to these extremes. Just some every-day trivialities will suffice:                                                                                          

The mother who tells her daughter that she is disappointed in her because her report card is not good enough.

The mother who is ashamed that her daughter isn’t in honors class, but tells her friends that her daughter is more interested in sports. (Not true. I know Stacey, and she’s not interested in sports. She’s actually devastated by not making it.)

The mother who complains that her husband is more loving towards their daughter than her; who blames her daughter for getting preferential treatment

The mother who allows her son to get away with murder (after all “boys will be boys”…), but is strict with her daughter who does not complete her chores.

The mother who needs her daughter to take care of her; who shares her own problems – using the child as a sounding board … and she’s the one who prides herself in being like a sister to her daughter…

Next, there are the mothers who shun daughters who become inconveniently pregnant; or shun them because of the daughter’s marriage to someone who’s not from the same race, religion or social status.

Lastly, there are the mothers who tell their daughters that no one would want to marry them because they are so intolerable; and those who push their daughters to marry the first man who seem interested, because they are not pretty enough.

I could go on, but sometimes brevity is a virtue, and I believe you get the point.

So, I’ll simply say that unconditional love is a lofty concept, hence it is much more befitting angels and saints.

For the rest of us, it will be sufficient to remember to simply love as much as we can, warts and all.

The Lost Dream

It was 8:30 at night.

He was neither young nor old. He wasn’t slight or heavy. His hair was brown, curly and blunt.  A do-it-yourself haircut. He wore an old t-shirt and ragged pants.

I looked at him as he was pulling a big trashcan out of a store.

The lights were already dim … doors ready to close … just a couple of more chores, and then home.

I could feel the ache in his body from working on his feet all day long. Emptying the trash after sweeping up is the last task before locking up. His is a job for the teenager or for a student, and yet he has the look of someone’s father … someone’s husband … a someone who is as tired as he is.

It was 8:30 at night and most of the other small stores were closed.

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Who is this man and what’s his story?

I don’t know. He just happened to be there when I was driving by. Traffic stopped; my eyes just wandered - and then I saw him.

·      What dreams did he have?

·      Did he tell his parents that he wanted to be a fireman when he grows up?

·      Did he have parents?

·      Did he grow up aimless, not sure of who he is and what to be?

·      Was he a promising musician, artist or actor who devoted years to his craft and became one of those “who did not make it”, without any alternative plan?

·      Was he recently fired or laid off, not knowing what to do with himself - taking any job available just to make some money or to have health insurance for his family?

·      Did he ever imagine that at age 45 he would be making minimum wage like his son?

So many dreams and so much pain.

A middle-aged man pulling a trash can and sweeping the floor, slowly, achingly without hope.

      

“Don’t Be An Idiom!”

Thank you Peter for the witty title!

I never sit directly on a toilet seat in public places; I wipe down my shopping carts; I use paper-towels in public bathrooms to open the doors; and I religiously wash all fruit and vegetables… and yet, I’ve been sick, more often, than ever before.

I don’t get it. They say, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness”, and I’m the very soul of sanitation; and yet the germs keep gaining ground!

Does God hate me? Or is it that because I am not close to godliness that cleanliness does not produce the obvious results?

What I do know is that – not only am I not next to godliness, but that my attempts at cleanliness don’t produce the desired outcome.

Hmmmm, which came first the chicken or the egg?

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I love idioms and sayings.

I can spend hours browsing through them. That’s how I discovered the brilliance of Chesterton, and Waugh (an anti-Semite of the first degree). However, some of those quotes are sheer nonsense, and yet we repeat them like they’re truth – probably because they just sound so good, smart, wise and useful.

Hitchens already wrote (and beautifully so, IMHO) about the fallacy of “Whatever does not kill you makes you stronger”. This sounds like a good one, doesn’t it?  Therapists and 12-Steppers love to quote it, except that it is often untrue.

PTSD won’t kill you, but it won’t make you stronger. Likewise, you can suffer from Crohn’s disease and still be alive, but not stronger. You get my point?

“We have nothing to fear but fear itself.” said F D Roosevelt.  My first reaction is ‘duh’, it is kind of obvious.  But, my second reaction is that this is one of the best examples of tautology. In analyzing the idiom for its inherent message, shouldn’t I fear a gun aimed at me?  You betcha!  I have a lot to fear, that is if I still want to be alive…

“Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” is a famous Benjamin Franklin’s quote. Now I really like Ben, but this one feels like he simply wanted his statement to rhyme. “Rise” and “wise” sound good together, and they also make it easier to remember!

Maybe one does stay healthier if one gets enough sleep, and maybe one can get wealthier by getting up early, as we all know that “The early bird catches the worm”…  But wise? That befuddled me completely. Maybe you can tell me how I can become wise by going to bed early.                                                                                                   

According to Wordsworth and Billy Joel (respectively), “The good die first” and “Only the good die young”.  So, I guess that means the rest of us, who are still alive and not so young mustn’t be so good – unless, of course, this was intended to console parents when losing their children. Regardless, I know many good people who died old and some young ones who were not noted for their kindness.

So the next time you quote someone or something, please: “Think before you speak!” It’s a good practice, and it kind of rhymes…