Wednesday, December 6, 2000
Memorable Movie - To LTF
Mom and I watched The Straight Story the other night. My mother really identified with the movie and with Alvin Straight. She was delighted that it was the story of an Iowa farmer. "That's something your grandpa [her father] probably did," she repeated throughout the movie. Truthfully, my grandfather on her side was only marginally a farmer. He came from a farming family and tried his hand at it a couple of times unsuccessfully then "married himself a woman" who was ambitious beyond the family farm and "made their fortune" by owning and managing a variety of inns and food businesses. Once he got out of farming and into marriage he was happy to fish, do minor repairs when they were required, jaw with the neighbors and leave providence up to my grandmother, who was happy to handle family maintenance without his help. But when, for instance, Alvin dickered with the John Deere salesman and the mechanics, when he insisted on sleeping outside, when he figured out a way to do something no one thought he could do, when he insisted on doing it on his own, his thinking, his explanations, his advice; well, was great watching her watch the movie. I loved it too, especially the way it ended. I can't say I learned much from it about overcoming adversity. I think it was more about living with adversity and how one adjusts (both gracefully and gracelessly) to life. For me, as well, it was an education, through my mother's reactions, in the history of my family culture on her side.
Mom had only one disagreement with the movie. When Alvin declared that the hardest thing about getting old was remembering what you were like when you were young I stopped the movie and asked Mom if that's how she feels.
"No," she said, "that's not hard, at all. It's not hard for me to remember being young. The memories are better than the experience. I wouldn't want to go back." In fact, she said, there isn't much that's hard for her about getting old. "You just get old. There's not much you can do about it. It's not hard. It just is."
We got to talking about it and decided that probably it's hard pretty much just for men when they remember what it was like to be young. Women, we decided, generally get "freed up" as they age, even as they move into advanced age. The opposite happens to men, or at least that's how they perceive it. Anyway, we smiled and laughed through most of the movie (some of it, of course, was not smiling and laughing material) mostly in recognition of my mother's heritage. At the very end after the credits I said, "Good work, David Lynch."
My mom said, "I thought his name was 'Alvin'."
I thought I'd let you know why your personal edition of my diary hasn't been updated recently and update a little of it for you. I still have lots to do with the women in the book club, with our move and with the insurance problem and then, of course, there are Mrs. Christmas' activities which will commence once we get back to Mesa so it may be awhile before I get back to you again.
Mom had only one disagreement with the movie. When Alvin declared that the hardest thing about getting old was remembering what you were like when you were young I stopped the movie and asked Mom if that's how she feels.
"No," she said, "that's not hard, at all. It's not hard for me to remember being young. The memories are better than the experience. I wouldn't want to go back." In fact, she said, there isn't much that's hard for her about getting old. "You just get old. There's not much you can do about it. It's not hard. It just is."
We got to talking about it and decided that probably it's hard pretty much just for men when they remember what it was like to be young. Women, we decided, generally get "freed up" as they age, even as they move into advanced age. The opposite happens to men, or at least that's how they perceive it. Anyway, we smiled and laughed through most of the movie (some of it, of course, was not smiling and laughing material) mostly in recognition of my mother's heritage. At the very end after the credits I said, "Good work, David Lynch."
My mom said, "I thought his name was 'Alvin'."
I thought I'd let you know why your personal edition of my diary hasn't been updated recently and update a little of it for you. I still have lots to do with the women in the book club, with our move and with the insurance problem and then, of course, there are Mrs. Christmas' activities which will commence once we get back to Mesa so it may be awhile before I get back to you again.
