Someone who says "bless you"...

Cameron Crowe's 1992 movie "Singles" came out at a very formative time for me. It was the height of the grunge era and the movie initially appealed to me because several of my rock idols appeared in it. The cast list included the likes of rock gods of the time like Chris Cornell (Soundgarden), Eddie Vedder and his bandmates (Pearl jam) and Layne Staley (Along with the rest of Alice in Chains).

For an angry kid like me who was obsessed with grunge culture, the backdrop of the 90s Seattle rock scene was more than enough to get me into the theatre (or rather, drive-in) that night in early 1993. The movie, however, turned out to be much more than just a homage to grunge. The Seattle scene was simply the place that gave it context. It was a film about normal people trying clumsily to navigate their way through relationships, being hurt, getting up again and trying not to be vulnerable. The characters stuck with me, though I would only completely understand who they really were years later, after being a grown up for a while myself.

I digress for a moment, though, because in order to explain why this particular movie was a huge part of the media that shaped my odd little outlook, some context may be required.

It was 1993 and I was in my second last year of high school. The streets of the Johannesburg suburbs were a different place then. We were able to walk them at night with no fear of mugging, hijacking or any of the other boogeymen that lurk today. My group of friends who attended my school and others in the area all lived within a few kilometres of each other in Johannesburg's West Rand. Our lack of available vehicles and licensed drivers limited our options somewhat as to where we could hang out. One of the most regular hangouts as a result of these limitations was the now deceased Hillfox drive-in.

We would all climb under the same opening in the fence - somehow everybody knew where it was. We didn't have to pay entry fees this way. Someone would always bring along a bottle of something pilfered from a parent's bar cupboard and, in some cases, certain other homegrown substances. We would all line up against the wall of the projection room, where we were at a good vantage point to see and hear whatever movie was showing at the time. We were always safe in our numbers and we would generally see the same familiar faces every time we visited Hillfox.

It's one of those times I remember with great fondness and a fair amount of melancholy. Some of those who were with us in the glory days of the Hillfox drive-in are no longer around (Rest in peace, Dion and Brendan). Others have gone through various predictable changes and moved out of my life for less painful reasons. Still, there is a timeless snapshot in my mind of those nights and the good friends I shared them with. Perhaps that's part of the reason that the movie that is the subject of this blog is also a bit of a soft spot for me.

So, background explained, now onto the meat and potatoes bit. Singles stars Bridget Fonda, Matt Dillon, Kyra Sedgwick and Campbell Scott as a group of 20 somethings living in an apartment block in Seattle. Here's the Wiki page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Singles_%281992_film%29

Janet Livermore (Bridget Fonda) is in a difficult relationship with grunge rocker, Cliff Poncier (Matt Dillon), who doesn't give her the attention she deserves. Janet is taken for granted in so many ways that she begins to question her own value. At one point, she asks Cliff if he thinks her breasts are too small, for example, to which he replies, "sometimes". This leads her to contemplate breast enhancement surgery, which brings us to the scene in the doctor's office here with her friend Steve (Cameron Scott):






It's a very short scene but a very important one; for me it forms a centrepoint to the entire movie. It culminates in a happy ending for Janet in the final scene of the film but more about that later. The point is, Janet started young and bright-eyed with a list of things that she thought her perfect partner would do for her. As time passes, that list shrinks until only one small requirement remains - someone who'll say "bless you" when she sneezes.

Many of us begin with a list of things we think our perfect partner will personify. As we are bounced around by circumstances and taught those annoying "hard lessons" that life has to teach us, that list all but disappears. The picture we have in our minds of the person we think could make us happy becomes a little more blurry, like an out of focus photograph where facial features can't really be made out.

One would think that as we learn more, we might become even more specific about what we want but the truth is, our vision only deteriorates. There's a lesson that Janet teaches us. A cynic might say that all her philosophy says is that we shouldn't allow ourselves to get our expectations too high; that life will disappoint us and we need to prepare for the worst case scenario. I think there's something else in there, though. What Janet teaches us is simply to be open to more possibilities. We can't predict who the person we will love will be. We have no real template upon which to base this mythical creature we all desire (and the lucky ones eventually get). Janet has not lowered her expectations so much as leveled the playing field. There is no formula for loving someone. Somewhere along the way our brain stops working and the chemical reaction kicks in. We can rarely pinpoint the exact moment that we fall in love. Janet is one of the lucky few and we get to vicariously witness that moment in her life in the final scene of the movie here:



Janet gets what she wants and it completely takes her by surprise. Singles, after all, is a romantic comedy. It's a genre I generally stay away from but this exception in my DVD library, I think is a very positive one. It's not your usual "boy meets girl" crap. It's a subtle examination of what makes us human. Janet has been hurt like so many of us have, but rather than become a cynic, she simply changes her outlook. Surprise surprise, the new mindset works for her and we see her happy ending come to life in my favourite scene (and the perfect ending to the film).

So, having been through the motions myself, I'd say I'm going to file that "perfect partner" list away somewhere for now and take my time. Perhaps my patience will pay off. Hope is far nicer to hold onto than resentment and disillusionment. It's something we all need in order not to become horrible people.

I'll end with some more wisdom from Janet and one of the best songs from the movie (did I mention that the soundtrack was amazing?)

"I've always been able to do this, break up with someone and never look back. Being alone: there's a certain dignity to it." - Janet Livermore

That said, "bless you" and keep that hope alive.

Why Not to Give a F**ck

“Life is a long preparation for something that never happens.”
― W.B. Yeats

Today's blog is about disappointment. normally I'd make my oft' used musical reference towards the end but I'm going to live a little this time around. Here's Kristin Hersh and Michael Stipe with "Your Ghost" from the 1994 album, "Hips and Makers":

I'm not completely clear on her exact meaning. It's a complicated piece of work. I think it's clearly about loss and disappointment; in Kristin's case, the loss of someone she loved.

The words, "push your old numbers and let your house ring 'til I wake your ghost" speak of loss and a death of some kind, though I don't think the death is a literal one in this case.

There are many deaths in our lifetimes, both in the real and the figurative senses. Some are easier to deal with than others but inevitably we have to stay in the land of the living ourselves so whatever mechanism is tuned in in our brains to adapt to change kicks up a gear and propels us over the bumps in the road towards survival and recovery.

2013 has been a year fraught with disappointment for me. I'll spare you, fearless reader, from the gory details but let it be said; that little gear in my head has been working overtime the past few months, so much so that it may be in need of an overhaul soon. This blog, however, is not about dwelling on things for the sake of "woe is me"; rather it's a quick comment on the process that allows us to move on.

"Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance"

The five stages of grief as created by head shrinkers. Now, there are a lot of psychological theories that I don't place much stock in but this one, somehow, makes sense to me. Having observed myself as a test subject I can honestly say that the gear in my head is currently in second - the anger stage - that frustratingly grumpy part of the road where one becomes unlikable, irritable and resentful. It's a step we have to go through. You can't get to third gear without shifting into second beforehand. So, yeah, I am currently pissed off. Nonetheless, I'm not looking forward to fourth gear. Hitting the highway in fifth is going to be awesome, though.

For those of you in a similar place to where I am right now, feel free to use me as your lab rat. Having noted my own mood swings and slow progression, I can say that there has indeed been progress. It may not sound like a "beacon of hope" right now but I say you have to let yourself be angry and then depressed for a while. Anger gets tiring, so does depression.

In my experience, depression is kind of like a Woody Allen movie; you either enjoy it for a little bit, then get annoyed by the protagonist (invariably Woody himself) halfway through, or you stick it out and realise that you have just wasted a significant amount of time observing completely inane, pointless drivel. Either way, it runs its course and the channel ulimately changes to acceptance - which is more like an episode of Looney Tunes where you finally get to see Wile E Coyote get the better of that smug Road Runner.

So chin up, (and those words are meant as much for me as they are for you). It is human nature to adapt. We change like the seasons do. It's not something we can help.

You'll be fine sooner than you think, I just know it.