Every temporary measure of grace
November 2, 2009
A couple things made me pause this weekend. First I watched Woody Allen’s Whatever Works and while the movie dragged a bit in the middle, the ending was a killer — my wife sleeping half on top of me, and the cat curled on top of her, and me sobbing like an idiot. That last fourth-wall breaking soliloquy by the character Boris Yellnikoff (played by Larry David) blew my mind. Here’s a taste:
“…I happen to hate New Year’s celebrations. Everybody desperate to have fun. Trying to celebrate in some pathetic little way. Celebrate what? A step closer to the grave? That’s why I can’t say enough times, whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever works… Don’t kid yourself, it is by no means up to your human ingenuity, a bigger part of your existence is luck. Christ, you know the odds of your father’s one sperm from the billions finding the single egg that made you? Don’t think about it or you’ll have a panic attack!”
Every temporary measure of grace. My god, I wish I’d written that line!!! In the context of this miserable man who’s tried to kill himself twice – both times by jumping out a window (“I hit the awning! Do you believe it?”) this benison comes as a shocking tenderness.
Also this week, the Marshall Tucker Band’s Can’t You See dropped into my life via Sirius Satellite Radio and, well, I did what you’re supposed to do…I turned it up LOUD, rolled down the windows, peeled back the sunroof and sang at the top of my lungs — as the snow drifted past and around and into my car!
Also, on Sunday, Waiting for Columbus reappeared on the Bestseller charts in Edmonton, at number 3. If that isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.