I guess this has to do with getting older, but I like to be in bed sometime between 9 and 10 p.m., curl up under heavy blankets, open a good book, and read a few chapters before drifting off to sleep, usually by 11 p.m.
My dad came to visit me last night. But it’s probably not what you think.
I live in Burbank, California – almost thirty years now. My dad lives 3000 miles away in East Greenwich, Rhode Island. He’s been there for almost all of his eighty-eight years. He’s a great guy. Loving. Caring. Good sense of humor, and always leaves people with a smile. But he’s also the kind of dad that will seldom call, much less come for a visit.
Wow! Where to begin? For weeks, before the feature film “Cuties” had been released, I was seeing lots of triggered “Karens & Kens” freaking out over the description of the movie and its trailer; a movie they haven’t even seen yet; a movie they probably will not see for themselves; a movie where they base their rants solely on the rambling opinions of others; a movie that they have already made up their minds is the worst thing on God’s green earth; a movie that… Well, you get the idea.
With camera in hand, I was out the door and leaving California on a cross-country road trip to the east coast, in particular, Rhode Island and environs where I have family and friends I wanted to visit.
I am not a person who likes confrontations—not at all. As a matter of fact, I go out of my way to completely avoid them whenever possible. But sometimes you just can’t.
I CANNOT HEAR MY BREATHING
I CANNOT HEAR MY HEART BEATING
I HAVE NEVER HEARD SUCH SILENCE