Can't Go Home Again

Have you seen Sam Waterston as Jack McCoy in the new Law & Order?

Heartbraking. 

I don't even know if the show is still on the air. The show sucks, the acting sucks and Jack McCoy is old and frail. It is impossible to accept him in that role any more. Can't go home again.

Funny thing is, he is perfectly acceptable as Sol in Grace and Frankie. That's because there are no prior expectations. And he is playing an aging man.

I used to read spy thrillers voraciously. Ken Follett and Robert Ludlum. Gobbled them up. Eventually I stopped. Had enough, I guess.

Recently I confronted a reading crisis - I let my inventory of unread books dwindle, and I was not into anything at hand. I didn't want to read the James Lee Burke book I have stored up on my tablet because I had just read one of his books. I wanted to shake up my brain.

So I downloaded a Ludlum novel to my tablet. Why not? I used to love him.

Couldn't read it. My brain would not accept it. Can't go home again.

Had a recent conversation with an acquaintence about my family, my Italian heritage, my upbringing. Got me thinking about the amazing meals my mother whipped up, the huge family gatherings we had for every occasion. I miss the meals, and wish I could relive the gatherings - I didn't give a shit about them at the time, but now I realize how cool it is to enjoy a large family gathering.

Not going to happen. Can't go home again. I have lost those things.

Besides, I think large family gatherings have been outlawed. I never hear anybody talking about them.

I often dream about going back a few decades so I can grab Keith and Craig up in my arms, swing them around and listen to them laugh. Never going to happen again.

In fact, we are getting close to the point when they will pick up their frail, old dad and swing him around into a wheelchair or a hospital bed. I probably won't be laughing.

Life just keeps running you down. You can try to capture it in pictures or diaries or fucking blogs, but life just laughs in your face and makes you older. And older. And older.

Life, in the beginning, gives you things.  

In the end, it takes things away.