In Between Days

I just heard that Lou Reed died. Only 71. He lived hard, so a full life, not particularly concerned with self-preservation for most of it. Sad. New wave and punk musicians seem to be more fragile than rock’n’roll ones. Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee, Joe – all gone before old age. These days, if you are a musician and want to live long, play the blues. You’ll be 88 and doing a show at Massey Hall, with the audience loving every lick coming from Lucille.

So much energy goes into work week. Weekends become a blur of maintenance – cleaning, buying and making food – and obligations. Occasionally pleasure sneaks in (but nothing resembling hedonism).

My guilty pleasure is leaving work on Friday early, around 5 o’clock and walking up Bay to the movie theatre to catch a movie that opened that very day. The early show may be packed, but nothing compared to the later one, and by the time the crowds are lining up to get in, I’m already on my way home.

That’s how I saw “12 Years a Slave”. It’s not an easy watch, but a story that’s well told. Steve McQueen does better with a narrative than doing a character study (“Shame”). The story, based on a factual account, has a fairytale quality (Pinocchio) and at the same time unrelenting brutality. I could have done without Brad Pitt as the Canadian carpenter who rescues Solomon, although Pitt’s producer contribution was important. Fassbender continues to bring his most intense performances to McQueen’s films. In “12 Years a Slave”, his character is so demented, cruel and caught up in his own misery, that you cringe in your seat every time he appears in the story. It’s a powerful film and one that Hollywood loves to love.

Today I walked up Bay, not to see a movie, but to walk part way home. On my way I saw 2 young guys dressed up in black suits, white shirts, pointy black shoes. One of them looked like the guy from Weezer, the other one had Robert Smith hair, so was more adorable, in a dark and cool way.

A pit stop at the bookstore. Bought Emma Forrest’s “Your Voice in My Head” and it’s reading super fast. So far, Dr. R seems unlike the therapist in “The Examined Life”, except that he too has an abundance of compassion and caring for his patients. I’m happy to have googled Emma now and determined in my own mind that she is Ok and maybe (hopefully) happy.

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