Sunday, March 6, 2016
The Intolerable Distress of Togetherness
Greta Garbo. She was my hero. I went to every movie of hers at the old movie theatre in Cambridge, Massachusetts, when I was 20. That woman could suffer with class, and I wanted her class.
Both she and I could relate to that intolerable distress of too much togetherness. Me? There was never a time when I didn't feel crowded in my crazy family. Now, at my age, I especially savor my alone time. Separate rooms. Separate houses. I cannot imagine ever living with someone again. Too much stress. I'd be of a mind to kick even God out, if God came in and started rearranging my furniture.
There is only one condition of togetherness that I find palatable.
Treasure the weirdness in me and you. Plus, you keep your weirdness on your side, and I'll keep mine on my side.
Deal? In the spirit of sharing, I'm going to share one weird thing a day. O.K. Maybe not every day. Every week. Today, my former devotion to Greta Garbo. She was a hermit, but such a classy and beautiful one. I wonder what her reason was for wanting to be alone? I imagined she felt the same intolerable distress of togetherness that I felt.
I see the same thing in our government today. Nobody gets along any better than my family did. Donald reminds me of my mother. The sort who commands "Get to your knees!" Jebb was clueless, like my Dad. Hilary is slippery. Rubio is just trying, trying, trying. Makes me wonder if all of them were traumatized as kids. That being said, whenever I get to wondering why the folks we elected, or are about to elect, are so weird, I have to stop. I can't claim the moral high ground here. Not when I have turned out so weird myself.