It Might Get Messy

Oh, it’s gonna get fucking messy, alright. But let’s start here. There’s good stuff along with the bad, and we got plenty of weblog entries to get through before we shut it down.


I love the scene in Constantine when Tilda Swinton leans over to whisper in Keanu Reeves’ ear and point to his cigarette saying “This is going to kill you. You’re going to hell for the life you took. You’re fucked.” 


There are many layers of interest in this scene, starting with the easy one which is that Constantine’s apparently been condemned to hell for committing suicide but NOT for smoking despite having an acute case of lung cancer. And that’s always sort of the little-things level I figured I’d have to deal with my gods at. I’ve advised my kids to be as “ready to die at any moment” as you think you can be, because bad shit happens all the time. And the director is not going to tell you when the jet engine is going to fall through the roof of the house onto your bed, because she’ll want that genuinely surprised look on camera. So my religious rituals tend to be little things. Did I smooch Molly when she when to bed last night? Remember to tell Cathy to drive carefully when she left the house this morning? Send Beth an email just to check in? A surprising number of those things DO get done in their turn, and then I don’t feel like I have to get all melodramatic like Keanu and give Satan the finger while I drift over toward heaven (which, in that particular scene, looks remarkably like suburban Indianapolis). All I have to do is give myself a couple thumbs up as the jet engine wacks through the ceiling. Thumbs up and a smile, ‘cause I’m taking that smooch and that careful driving warning and that email with me and whoever the hell dropped the jet engine on me can’t have them. They’re mine. Which means I win, dammit.


And you know, that’s really all it takes. Although, on the off chance that you run into Tilda Swinton and she has an open date with a room overlooking the Park along 59th and access to a case of top quality rose champagne, would you let her know to give me a call? Thanks!


PS-- given where we are at the moment and where we have to go from here, I can ASSURE you it’s gonna get messy. Next entry up I’m going to have to review the timeline of this whole thing. You realize I’ve gone from healthy, happy, possibly annoyingly contended middle-aged guy to cancer patient in deep trouble in the course of less than a month, correct? Wait’ll I post the photos of the 6 entire frickin’ teeth they insisted on yanking this week for no reason that I can fathom. You’ll like that. Then I’ll show you the “nutrition injection port” they inserted surgically a couple weeks ago. Remember cartoon show the Jetsons? THAT is the level of technology we’re talking about here…