Sunday, September 17, 2017

The Mid-life Crisis That Wasn't

I wrote down the first part, and then I surprised myself by the finish.

"When I think of all that I have thought, felt, said, written, cried over, laughed off, gone without, run for, packed up, traveled to, bought, lost, worn, made up, brushed out, painted on, squeezed into, balanced on, and pressed together… I realize that’s what made it so fun."

I wish I could attribute this quote to someone famous and revered. But it's just me.

Dorothy Parker was known for her sharp tongue and witticisms. But there's always a little something sad underlying her jabs, and I guess that's how I like my snark. Not too proud, not too bitter. Hers is a good vintage, coming from the Rothschild line, born to a Scottish Protestant and a German Jew but taught by Roman Catholic nuns. I don't know how one could escape that childhood without having a mind full of wry observation and angst tempered with a sense of the absurd. When I read her, she strikes me as the Oscar Wilde of her time, or maybe he was the Dorothy Parker of his.



Some of these one-liners and verses are well-known, and seem like precursors to Twitter:

"Salary is no object: I want only enough to keep body and soul apart."

"What fresh hell can this be?"(whenever someone rang the doorbell)

"Brevity is the soul of lingerie."

"You can lead a horticulture, but you can't make her think."

"Never complain, never explain."

"A hangover is the wrath of grapes."

"I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy."

And here are a few for self-knowledge and acceptance, to stave off a crisis of identity:

"In youth it was a way I had,
To do my best to please.
And change, with every passing lad
To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know
And do the things I do,
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you."
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"And if my heart be scarred and burned,
The safer, I, for all I learned."

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Inventory

Four be the things I am wiser to know:
Idleness, sorrow, a friend, a foe.
Four be the things I'd been better without:
Love, curiosity, freckles and doubt.
Three be the things I shall never attain:
Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.
Three be the things I shall have till I die:
Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye."

Here is one about writing, that I feel the same way about, having come to discover myself a writer and poet. Although I have a degree in Creative Writing, and have been published and paid, I've only ever thought of myself as someone who writes, rather than a Writer. She touches upon the great fear that comes along with a professional title:

"If you have any young friends who aspire to be writers, the second greatest favor you can do them is to present them with copies of The Elements of Style. The first greatest, of course, is to shoot them now, while they're happy."

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"If I don't drive around the park,
I'm pretty sure to make my mark.
If I'm in bed each night by ten,
I may get back my looks again.
If I abstain from fun and such,
I'd probably amount to much.
But I shall stay the way I am,
Because I do not give a damn."



Honestly, I do give a damn, many damns, and I would love to see more young people (having been one for several years) take up writing along with their damns. But I would filch their copies of The Elements of Style, "a book not to be tossed off lightly. It should be thrown with great force."

I love her irreverence surrounding death, which, for me, removes its sting so satisfyingly.

"That would be a good thing to cut on her tombstone: wherever she went, including here, it was against her better judgment."

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"It costs me never a stab nor squirm
To tread by chance upon a worm.
Aha, my little dear, I say,
Your clan will pay me back one day."

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"I never see that prettiest thing--
A cherry bough gone white with Spring--
But what I think how gay 'twould be
To hang me from a flowering tree."

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Resumé

Razors pain you,
Rivers are damp,
Acids stain you,
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful,
Nooses give,
Gas smells awful,
You might as well live.