Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Marrying George Clooney

Just finished a book called Marrying George Clooney - Confessions from a Midlife Crisis by Amy Ferris.
Powerfully emotional. Funny. Sad. Thought provoking. Honest.
3:00 a.m. thoughts from a woman (Amy) going through menopause/midlife crisis.
The book continuously confirmed my belief that because we are all human the common ground is enormous. Don't care if you are male, female, black, white, rich, poor, completely evolved or agonizingly trying.
Emotion is emotion. Fear, confusion, pettiness, enlightenment, struggling, succeeding, failing, being lost, finding yourself, happiness, sadness. We all experience these things, which frustrates me eternally as to why we are all so evil with one another.
Honestly, as a man, there were parts of the book that I could not relate to on a certain level. I was continuously amused as I read the book in my recliner because each time I put it down to reach for the cup of coffee I looked at the classification on the back cover: Women's Issues.
I don't care about labels, never have. I can't even label myself. I have an ex brother-in-law who summed it up perfectly many years ago.
This guy is down and dirty who he is. Hardworking, blue collar, hard drinking and tough. The kind of guy who if pushed is going to punch you in the face. Intimidating.
I have had many a beer with him, spent a lot of time with him at racetracks and family gatherings.
I don't remember what we were talking about, but on my screened in porch at a family gathering he said to me "I don't know what you are. You're not blue collar, you're not white collar, you're somewhere in the middle."
Exactly. I don't fit in anywhere.
The back cover label thing sparked another memory of a book I read with the classification: Homosexual Fiction. Wonder what my macho posturing friends would have thought about that. I believe it was A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood. A great book which became a good movie starring Colin Firth.
But I digress. I could relate to all of Marrying GC on a gut level. It moved me.
The last chapter destroyed me. It was a description of the time Amy spent with her mother just before she died. Her mother who had slipped into dementia. It was a factual account laced with life memories, insight, realizations, laughter and tears. She got to spend those last days with her mother and connect on a physical, emotional and, as much as possible under the circumstances, intellectual level.
This addressed an enormous hole in my life. My relationship with my parents was thin. I don't look back feeling loved. Feels more like antagonism and misunderstandings. I felt like an outsider in my own family and this feeling haunts me to this day.
Both of my parents were gone before we ever had a chance to connect the way parents and child should connect. I never felt comfortable with them and that knowledge leaves me uneasy.
Of course at this stage in my life it's at the "get over it" phase. Can't use it as an excuse for anything. But I do believe these things stay with you as something solid, something that lodges in your soul forever and they impact you in uncontrollable ways.
There is a lot of emotion in this book and I am all about emotion. A writer who can evoke emotional response through the written word is a writer I can dig.
Amy is such a writer.
Most women can connect with the book and any men who are not imprisoned by labels and false image can dig it too.
I am spent.

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