Hi folks! So three years ago this week I kicked off this blog with …She’d Be Creative. I know I haven’t written much of late… anyone still around? In honor of the milestone, anything you all would like me to write about? Topics, questions, anything?
I just had lunch with my BFF, and I talked to her about a cool movie called About Time, which is a sweet romantic comedy with a dose of time travel. If you haven’t seen it I highly recommend it.
We when on to talk about how having children tends to erase regrets or at least cast them in a new light, which reminded me of this post I wrote a few years back. So I wanted to reblog it, especially since it’s a much more “positive” post than I’ve written of late. Enjoy :)
Originally posted on My Ideal Woman...:
I’m pretty sure I’ve written here before how having children so dramatically changes your perspective, not least of which has to do with regrets you may have had in life. The steps you took in life, even the steps you may have regretted, ultimately led you to the path that brought your children into your life… and every day I see these wonderful little souls, these amazing lives that are growing and becoming more and more independent and curious, with dreams and hopes for their futures, I realize that even a slight deviation in my path to them might have prevented them from even existing. It takes my breath away when I think back and contemplate how easy it could have been to take a different path, and so how can I regret the things I used to think of as mistakes and lost opportunities if they ultimately led me…
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The most difficult thing about going from being a married dad to a single dad was not sleeping under the same roof as my children every day. Getting them up in the morning, feeding them breakfast, getting them ready for school… and then at night, asking about their day, checking the schoolwork, and finally tucking them in and getting a goodnight kiss… the daily connection with your children is such a blessing, so rejuvenating to the mind and spirit. And most important of all—having access to a hug from someone who loves you whenever you need it is the greatest gift. There are days when the world is beating you down, and you desperately need the balm of a loved one’s arms wrapped around you to let you know it’s okay. When you’re a single dad who’s children don’t live with you, when you have those sorts of days, most of the time you come home to an empty house and just have to deal with being beaten down alone, and hold on for the next visitation when you can finally get the hugs and kisses that you need. My ex often laments about how difficult and busy it is being a single mom, but I would trade places with her in a heartbeat.
The vast majority of Valentine’s Days in my life as an adult have been spent single, and yet I’ve always loved the holiday. If you’re a regular reader – and if you are, I apologize for being mostly absent these past months (more on that later) – you know I’m a hopeless romantic. If I’m with someone, I like to give her little mini-Valentines throughout the year (just goofy “I love ya” stuff), but on Valentine’s Day it’s time to make a special effort, and I love it. The years when I’m not with someone, I usually spend Valentine’s Day thinking about past loves and daydreaming about some future love yet to have walked into my life. Whatever loneliness I feel is typically drowned out by the eternal optimism that is my modus operandi.
This time around… I’m not feeling it. At. All. In fact, all the shiny happy couples that I’m constantly bouncing against throughout each day and night, in person and on social media, have become oppressively irritating, rubbing away my optimism smile by smile. Valentine’s Day this year just takes that irritation I’ve been feeling and turns it up to 11.
I think the shift in feelings is due to the realization that being alone is something I’ve got to live with for at least 3-4 more years due needing to work full and part-time jobs to take care of my kids and maintain my house (once the kids are in high school my financial obligations ease a bit). So between working and the time I get to visit with my kids, that usually leaves one day or evening a week that I’m free to be social. How am I supposed to meet and court someone special one weekend day/evening a week? I tried and it doesn’t work.
So add that on top of the 4 years since my ex and I split, and the 4-5 years of being emotionally alone while married, and that’s a long fucking time.
I think my “glass half-full” optimism has always been driven by the hope that things are going to get better soon. And while life is full of ups and downs, in general I do think things generally improve. I’m happy with a lot of different parts of my life. But recently I’ve had to admit to myself that romance, love, partnership is just not in the cards—that desolate stretch of emptiness goes on for the foreseeable future. And that fucking sucks. It pisses me off, and makes it tough to maintain the smiles and optimism that I’m known for.
I started this blog when my ex and I separated as a way to mentally keep me from becoming that bitter divorcé that so many people fall into after breaking up with their spouse. I used it to document and reflect on past loves, and to ponder what future love might bring. Well, after three and a half years of writing the well of actual real life love experiences is tapped out (not that it was very deep to being with). And except for one all too brief exception, there has been no new love experiences to write about… and it’s become hard to even imagine when or if future love will come around. I would write “My Ideal Woman…” posts as an ode to a future love I knew would come around eventually. Now, I’m pretty sure she’s not. Not for a long, long time.
This blog was born out of optimism towards women, love and relationships. That optimism is gone now. That’s why I haven’t really been feeling up to writing. Well actually, I’ve still wanted to write, but each time I sat down to write something it’s always been negative. People don’t want to read negative shit, especially not from me—I’ve always felt that my positivity is what drew people to read my blog. But I felt that I owed you guys some sort of explanation since I know from my own experiences following blogs it kinda sucks when they just… stop.
I don’t want things to stop here… I’ll do my best to think of interesting and positive things to write about going forward… but the source material for most of what I’ve written here so far is a dried up well, so let’s keep our fingers crossed I can find something else worth writing about.
I resisted watching Californication for quite a while. There were a couple reasons why I didn’t want to give the show a chance. First was the name of the show. I thought it was a pretentious and juvenile name when the Red Hot Chili Peppers came out with the song years back, and found both the music and lyrics supremely lame. It didn’t help things that the song was a radio “hit” and I heard it all the time.
Second was that it struck me as weird and strange that the role on its surface seemed to hew so close to star David Duchovny’s personal life. He was married to Téa Leoni, an actress who I’ve always thought was both beautiful and talented, and his marriage fell apart due to his sex addiction. Duchovny’s role on Californication, Hank Moody, ruins the most important relationships in his life in large part because of his inability to stop sleeping with any willing woman who crosses his path. Like, if you’re struggling with sex addiction I’m baffled as to why you would take such a role?
So I resisted for six years, despite quite a few actresses on the show that I find gorgeous (Natascha McElhone, Madeline Zima, Mädchen Amick, Eva Amurri, Carla Gugino, Natalie Zea). Then about a month ago while channel surfing I ran across some reruns on Showtime and, since there wasn’t anything else on settled in and watched a couple shows.
Somehow, I got hooked and went back and started watching the show from the beginning. I mean, Hank Moody is an emotional wreck, an alcoholic womanizer, self-destructive and emotionally devastating to the people he loves. But damn it, David Duchovny is so charming and charismatic in the role that I kept finding myself rooting for him despite his many, many flaws (though I did find out later that it’s not just Duchovny but his acting and the writing together that makes the character appealling– the writing took a noticeable dip in Season 3 and the Hank Moody character wasn’t nearly as good as the 1st two seasons, but thankfully the writing seems to have picked up in Season 4). And the other main characters are largely quite colorful, engaging and entertaining as well.
As I realized that I really liked the show and was going to be watching all the seasons On Demand, I pondered why the show had really hooked me so and realized that it catches me from a lot of different directions. The core appeal I think is the relationship Hank has with his daughter Becca, and how much he desperately loves her and attempts to keep that relationship alive despite the chaos he brings into his life. It appeals to me as a dad who tries hard to stay close to my own children despite not living with them. It also resonates as the son of an alcoholic womanizer, who was just as self-destructive and emotionally devastating to the people he loves… only my father didn’t make nearly the effort with his kids that Hank Moody does. So I can watch Hank Moody from his daughter’s perspect as a sort-of “do over” as to how it might have been if my father had made the effort.
Also, Hank Moody is a writer– a novelist who has also dabbled in screenwriter. I have long had aspirations of doing both myself, so it’s nice to see a little bit of writers-craft popping up here and there in the storylines.
He’s also madly, deeply and thoroughly in love with fairer sex and admires everything about them, an outlook that resonates with me as well. Of course, Hank Moody looks like David Duchovny so with those looks and that attitude the character has women dropping their clothes for him far more often that most of us mere mortals out here in the real world.
There are quite a few layers to Hank Moody that make for a compelling character. At his core, Hank is a damaged boy looking for love and acceptance, which makes him sympathetic. Wrapped around that core is a self-destructive alcoholic that doesn’t seem to really want to change his ways, which makes him unsympathetic. Woven into this layer is the womanizing, which taken as a whole is a bad thing, but individually it generally plays into Hank’s love of women and fascination with every woman he meets, which makes it feel less bad and more sympathetic. The writers also tend to use his encounters with women to generally wreck major havoc in Hank’s life, often in quite humorous ways.
Draped over top of those layers is a mix of funny stuff — a healthy dose of life knocking you down when things are looking up, life kicking you when you’re down, and a revolving door of hilarious recurring characters and guest stars. Rob Lowe in particular is fucking brilliant in his over-the-top role as a big name Hollywood actor. And then there are some people who play twisted versions of themselves– Rick Springfield had a recurring role as a total degenerate version of himself.
Particularly fascinating is watching daughter Becca grow up, from a pre-teen in Season 1 to a college freshman in Season 4, and how her relationship with her father has evolved.
When I started watching the show I thought that the series had ended, but I’ve now learned that there will be a final season next year. I’m certainly curious to see how the stories end for Hank Moody and the characters in his life. I suspect there are going to be at least a few sad endings in store, but the eternal optimist in me is hoping for more happy endings in the balance. It’s been a heckuva ride so far.
Have any of y’all watched the show?
Posted in Random thoughts, Women of TV | Tagged Californication, Carla Gugino, David Duchovny, Eva Amurri, Life, Love, Madeline Zima, Mädchen Amick, Natalie Zea, Natascha McElhone, Parenthood, Sex, TV, writing | 2 Comments »
This weekend I had the kids with me. Saturday we ran by Kroger’s to pick up some stuff to make “breakfast for dinner” — something both me and the kids love. While we were there my son Aaron stopped in front of the sushi bin and saw one of his favorite sushi rolls was there (apparently they don’t make too many and they sell out quick). Anyway, he pleaded with me to get it for him, and I said we could pick it up and he could have it for lunch on Sunday. After finishing the groceries, we put the bags in the hatch and head home, unload the groceries and I start on dinner.
Today — Sunday — we’re out running a few errands and Aaron’s in the back seat. “Oh crap,” he says. I glance in the rear view mirror and he’s holding up a plastic grocery bag. “I left the sushi back here since yesterday. Is it bad now?”
“Yeah, probably. We’ll need to throw it away.”
“Awww…” He’s disappointed. Then he adds, “Sorry Dad” after realizing that basically we just threw $8 in the trash.
I can tell he feels bad, so I just say “Well, we all make mistakes.” I try to think if there’s some sort of lesson to be taught here, but he knows he screwed up. I mean, I suppose I should have caught that the sushi didn’t make it into the fridge the night before, but the kids were helping me put the groceries away and I was busy fixing dinner, so I didn’t even really notice. I just assumed the sushi was in the fridge and put it out of my mind. I wasn’t thrilled to have thrown $8 in the trash, but shit happens.
It occurred to me as I pondered how to respond to the incident that some parents would have screamed their head off at the kid for it. I’ve seen other parents do it out in public. My own father might have very well made me feel like total shit if I’d done that. And it was a strange feeling that I had in that moment, where I was grateful that my son had me as a Dad rather than someone who would have screamed at him over something like that. Imagining an alternate-universe Aaron having to deal with that sort of reaction… just made me both sad and relieved.
At the very least I suppose the lesson there is something that’s important in how I live my life– don’t sweat the small stuff. There’s no point in getting upset and angry over small bumps in the road that’s just a part of living. Save that energy for the things that truly warrant it.
I did make a mental note to myself that, one day, when Aaron’s a grown man and maybe we’ll meet somewhere for lunch I’ll order the sushi and remind him he owes me one. Hopefully we’ll have a laugh over that.
Today a friend posted a fun little meme on her Facebook page, it had a picture of a blank piece of notebook paper and under it the question:
If you could write a note to your younger self, in two words, what would you say?
That was actually quite tough… just two words? Three words came pretty easy, but this was a challenge! I thought for a while, and then finally figured out what I would write to Bennie the Younger…
Thinking back to so many times in my life, if I would have heeded these words rather than the self-doubt that always seemed to plague my thoughts… well, I’ve no doubt life would’ve been a lot more fun :)