Today I'll be short. It's just one of those days when a host of small to medium aggravations have piled up, and all relate to the one clear affliction that is more prevalent even than COVID-19. I'll paraphrase some lines from the great Louis Malle film, My Dinner With Andre, when playwright Wallace Shawn, walking down the street towards his coming dinner with theater director and writer Andre Gregory, thinks about where he is in life. Wallace comes from a comfortable background, something not everyone has had obviously, but where he has wound up later in his life is not quite where he thought he'd be.
He basically says when he was younger, growing up in New York City, with few worries to plague him, all he thought about was art and music. The creative life. These kind of aspirations. Now, he's older, it's different, and he doesn't think so much about art and music. All he can think about is money.
Funny, infuriating, and absolutely true. Who can't relate?
Until next week.
And when you are older still, all you think about is death.
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