I spent a lot of this past Saturday respecting the environment by not burning oodles of slash and blowdown I’ve accumulated over the fall and winter. I trust that my inclination for sloth was not the sole cause.
My absence of immolation on Saturday was filled with stories on the news about Trump, Trump the President, and Trump the Troll.
More than Trump and his machinations, I am meandering through the inevitability of aging, of embracing my upcoming threescore and ten, ominously poised to descend in March.
An old film friend, by which I mean a favorite film, The Late Show, starring Art Carney and Lily Tomlin, appeared Saturday on TCM. More than when it was released in the late 1970’s it now speaks to me much more crisply about age and adjustment. Briefly, the film is about an over the hill private detective hired to find a cat. The story expands quite a bit, beginning with the shooting death of another private eye, Harry Regan. (Incidentally, apropos of little, the classic Bogart/Philip Marlowe film, The Big Sleep, revolves partly around the disappearance of an old drinking buddy of Marlowe’s, Sean Regan.) Coincidence? I think not.
Anyways, the whole point of this post is to offer this soliloquy by Ira Wells, Art Carney’s character, as he describe his world view. For some reason, I see it as a writer’s statement that suits me.
Ira: Listen, doll, let’s get one thing straight. I’m a loner. I always have been a loner. I was a loner when I was a kid. I was a loner when I was married. Probably why we broke up. I’m by myself now because I like it that way. Nothing personal, but I don’t like to talk about it. There’s too damn much talk in the world as it is.
And maybe, just maybe it’s also a statement about Trump, how we are consumed by talking about him, being dragged, kicking and screaming to his pointless precipice.