I don't usually fall in love with dead people.
Okay, if you've been paying ANY attention to my story, you'll realize this is patently FALSE.
I'm not even in denial.
I was slowly coming home from Kendall, winding my way home through the streets. (During that mean-cold, dirty-snow winter, it was often my favorite part of the day) I did this slowly to work and slowly back. I'd like to report that I saw the marquee in Harvard Square and ditched work for the day. Or maybe I'd like to report that I saw it and then drove to work, did what I needed and then escaped.
Regardless, sometime in March, they held a marathon of the movie "The Swimmer" (1965, Burt Lancaster, look for Cheever's cameo during one of the party scenes). I'd like to remember it as a 24 hour marathon. Or maybe even it was up for a week. I'd like to remember that i was caught up in it. That I left and wandered through life, and then came back and came back and came back.
The main character is delusional, and possibly a drunk, but obsessed with the idea of swimming Home. The "emerald river" of his neighbor's pools leads him through a series of lives and events. All one day which somehow morphs into spring-summer-winter.
Like Henry David Thoreau, who lived on Walden for 2 years, 2 months and 2 days and turned it into a book split into the 4 seasons. One year, one book. The same thing with his "Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers" 2 weeks laid out into 7 days, written over several years, even when he was at Walden. An ode to his dead brother, and he never mentions his name.
But it caught me as a Swimmer. I am a person who gets drunk on swimming, whose previous life was spent as a mermaid. I related to him so much. a man with only his swimming trunks (not even those at times) and maybe a martini or two. As a Simplifier, I could even go without the alcohol. Frankly, I only use it as an excuse to go crazy. As in, "I was drunk, so I can't be held responsible" or "I'm drinking, so I can say whatever I want". I'm a one-drink gal, but I nurse it long enough and exaggerate the consequences. Usually when I say these phrases, I have a drink in my hand, but am 99% sober. (EVENT Like the time I . . . ) Some people drink to relax, I drink as a crutch for insanity.
So I KNEW what he meant when he made a ridiculous assertion, and kept repeating it. Even though everyone THOUGHT he was crazy. You can tell from the first scene that somehow there is no home for him to go to. It's the enthusiasm in his voice and his general attitude; he can't be stopped and he's happy. Other people can watch, but as long as they run away before the end, they won't have to witness the scene and be implicated. I understood that too.
Sometime during the movie, during one of the many shots of him flying underwater, my body made up its mind. It would swim across Massachusetts and probably take me along with it. I suppose there was some subliminal discussion going on.
"Swim!"
"It's too cold!"
"It's practically summer!! Dive in!"
"There's nowhere to swim!"
"You are 10 minutes from the river and 20 from salt water. The state you live in is shaped like an arm, gathering water towards the rectangular body."
"I suppose there are a bunch of pools I could check out"
"WATER!!"
"But I hate the chlorine!"
"There are rivers and streams and lakes and ponds. Everywhere, everything is melting! Go with the flow!"
"Stop the Corporate babble!"
"A babbling brook. The Charles. Walden. Have you used that Groupon for the kayak yet? You could make it across Massachusetts after the thaw. Yet another thing to do on your way to Springfield. And Northampton. And Stockbridge. A whole new way to see the state!"
You make all your private phone calls from your boss' corner office when he's not in. Which is every day with an R in it. It looks down on a funny little inlet. During the spring and summer, an entreprenurial canoe and kayak rental business sets up. They'll never succeed until they get an App. And then they can get venture funding. And then they'll be a start-up. And then they can scale; create setups in every major city with a waterway. More diversions for more people in my Demographic; Young Singles Who Work in Tech and Perversely Enjoy Outdoor Sports (Presumed 75% Male Audience; not the competitive segment, include women for the "Dating" potential of the Activity)
{{{Even my body was weary of the trips on the Mass Pike out to Springfield on Mondays. Fridays were my travel day, where all I had to do was hand in my report, call the client and call my boss. I made calls, parked on the side of the road wherever I was. I tried to keep it scenic. The parking lot of an Old Mill Restaurant. I sat staring at it for an hour, nodding as my boss heard himself talk. When I went inside, it was a time capsule.}}
I've never ached to do something so much. Only during the movie did I realize that this conversation had been going on between my mind and body all winter. I itched to get out of my clothes then and there and dive into the Charles River. For a moment, like waking from a dream, it seemed entirely likely and possible. I could go outside, take off my shoes and dive into the first body of water I could find.
But when I left the theater, I was hit by the cold air and the idea that I had to find my car. And even in the car, I had to find the river. Which the car would only see as a bridge. In Boston, there are few belvederes to rest your car while you go for a swim. And parking by the river is a hassle. And there were too many people around who would interpret your actions as suicidal, rather than anything life affirming.
This would take planning.
(First Person Narrative? Woman's POV DIARY??)
Okay, if you've been paying ANY attention to my story, you'll realize this is patently FALSE.
I'm not even in denial.
I was slowly coming home from Kendall, winding my way home through the streets. (During that mean-cold, dirty-snow winter, it was often my favorite part of the day) I did this slowly to work and slowly back. I'd like to report that I saw the marquee in Harvard Square and ditched work for the day. Or maybe I'd like to report that I saw it and then drove to work, did what I needed and then escaped.
Regardless, sometime in March, they held a marathon of the movie "The Swimmer" (1965, Burt Lancaster, look for Cheever's cameo during one of the party scenes). I'd like to remember it as a 24 hour marathon. Or maybe even it was up for a week. I'd like to remember that i was caught up in it. That I left and wandered through life, and then came back and came back and came back.
The main character is delusional, and possibly a drunk, but obsessed with the idea of swimming Home. The "emerald river" of his neighbor's pools leads him through a series of lives and events. All one day which somehow morphs into spring-summer-winter.
Like Henry David Thoreau, who lived on Walden for 2 years, 2 months and 2 days and turned it into a book split into the 4 seasons. One year, one book. The same thing with his "Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers" 2 weeks laid out into 7 days, written over several years, even when he was at Walden. An ode to his dead brother, and he never mentions his name.
But it caught me as a Swimmer. I am a person who gets drunk on swimming, whose previous life was spent as a mermaid. I related to him so much. a man with only his swimming trunks (not even those at times) and maybe a martini or two. As a Simplifier, I could even go without the alcohol. Frankly, I only use it as an excuse to go crazy. As in, "I was drunk, so I can't be held responsible" or "I'm drinking, so I can say whatever I want". I'm a one-drink gal, but I nurse it long enough and exaggerate the consequences. Usually when I say these phrases, I have a drink in my hand, but am 99% sober. (EVENT Like the time I . . . ) Some people drink to relax, I drink as a crutch for insanity.
So I KNEW what he meant when he made a ridiculous assertion, and kept repeating it. Even though everyone THOUGHT he was crazy. You can tell from the first scene that somehow there is no home for him to go to. It's the enthusiasm in his voice and his general attitude; he can't be stopped and he's happy. Other people can watch, but as long as they run away before the end, they won't have to witness the scene and be implicated. I understood that too.
Sometime during the movie, during one of the many shots of him flying underwater, my body made up its mind. It would swim across Massachusetts and probably take me along with it. I suppose there was some subliminal discussion going on.
"Swim!"
"It's too cold!"
"It's practically summer!! Dive in!"
"There's nowhere to swim!"
"You are 10 minutes from the river and 20 from salt water. The state you live in is shaped like an arm, gathering water towards the rectangular body."
"I suppose there are a bunch of pools I could check out"
"WATER!!"
"But I hate the chlorine!"
"There are rivers and streams and lakes and ponds. Everywhere, everything is melting! Go with the flow!"
"Stop the Corporate babble!"
"A babbling brook. The Charles. Walden. Have you used that Groupon for the kayak yet? You could make it across Massachusetts after the thaw. Yet another thing to do on your way to Springfield. And Northampton. And Stockbridge. A whole new way to see the state!"
You make all your private phone calls from your boss' corner office when he's not in. Which is every day with an R in it. It looks down on a funny little inlet. During the spring and summer, an entreprenurial canoe and kayak rental business sets up. They'll never succeed until they get an App. And then they can get venture funding. And then they'll be a start-up. And then they can scale; create setups in every major city with a waterway. More diversions for more people in my Demographic; Young Singles Who Work in Tech and Perversely Enjoy Outdoor Sports (Presumed 75% Male Audience; not the competitive segment, include women for the "Dating" potential of the Activity)
{{{Even my body was weary of the trips on the Mass Pike out to Springfield on Mondays. Fridays were my travel day, where all I had to do was hand in my report, call the client and call my boss. I made calls, parked on the side of the road wherever I was. I tried to keep it scenic. The parking lot of an Old Mill Restaurant. I sat staring at it for an hour, nodding as my boss heard himself talk. When I went inside, it was a time capsule.}}
I've never ached to do something so much. Only during the movie did I realize that this conversation had been going on between my mind and body all winter. I itched to get out of my clothes then and there and dive into the Charles River. For a moment, like waking from a dream, it seemed entirely likely and possible. I could go outside, take off my shoes and dive into the first body of water I could find.
But when I left the theater, I was hit by the cold air and the idea that I had to find my car. And even in the car, I had to find the river. Which the car would only see as a bridge. In Boston, there are few belvederes to rest your car while you go for a swim. And parking by the river is a hassle. And there were too many people around who would interpret your actions as suicidal, rather than anything life affirming.
This would take planning.
(First Person Narrative? Woman's POV DIARY??)
