Authenticity

Yes, yes... Los Angeles, California (I'm not going anywhere...)

Larry and I correspond about writing every day. Not just about writing. About grief. About baseball. A lot of thoughts get exchanged. It is one of the things that has been good about this surreal time. I am communicating with a lot of friends. Not across tables in restaurants or in our homes, but through email, texts, and calls. Larry and I are both working on memoirs, but mine has stalled so most of my writing is going into my journal and here. Journaling is easy. It's just flow, and you don't filter or fidget with it in any way. Writing that may be read by your friends is different. Theoretically, it shouldn't be. One shouldn't worry about being confessional. In my adult, post-therapy life, I am more or less wide-open. I see no point in opaqueness. We've all been through, are going through, will go through the wringer in some shape or form. It is a given in being human. And I have learned that keeping up appearances will, sooner or later, be detrimental to the soul.

But, writing here in an unfiltered way can sometimes leave me feeling vulnerable. I make no apologies for who I am. I am someone whose emotions come in hot. There are some things I dislike, but generally what I dislike is what I hate. I'm not wishy-washy. And on the other side, what I love: the literature; the films; the food; the music; the concerts; the theater, and especially, the people in my life, I love intensely. I have had moments of ecstatic epiphany at concerts; I have had transformative experiences at the theater, and have lived in the days-long afterglow of both. I have tasted things that are party-in-your-mouth rapturous (see previous post about Kaya Toast). And have spent blissful evenings and vacations with friends and family. But these things don't happen that often, which is what makes it so special when everything comes together all glimmering, as F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote. On the other hand, I have felt annoyed by an amateurish theater production; disappointed by a concert which seems phoned in; bitterly disappointed in the vacation where I am felled by an illness or don't get along with traveling companions (read: family members).

My friends, Diana + Brendan, are in a small group of friends I call family, in a good way. Partly because I have known them for so long, but also because my friendship with Diana resides in a unique place for me. She is like a sister (in a good way), as well as a close friend. I feel free to tell them that I hate some of the things that they may like (usually movies or music, but also tofu). I feel that I can say what I feel without a lot of filtering. I'm not abusive. I hope I'm not rude. But I do feel license to express honest opinions with them.

In texting Larry about my writing and my trepidation at putting up posts here that might be taken as snarky, he reminded me that being clear and honest in writing about what I feel is authentic. And he also wrote (and I kinda love this part), that being snarky for a good cause can be ok. It's walking a tightrope to have this agency to express opinions, but still trying not to offend anyone. And I think it is part and parcel of these very difficult times we live in. We are pretty much in the same place with the Covid thing, though clearly differing to what degree of risk we tolerate. But we are all over the map, politically. I don't think there is one person I know who is politically in the same place as I. One of my conservative friends remarked that I sometimes surprise her with my moderate opinions. But, I think (and frankly hope) that the day has passed when we swallow our party's agenda whole, just as I believe the day should never come when we support our country when they are doing something wrong. Concurrent to the protests against the war in Viet Nam, I heard America, love it or leave it one too many times, and that was upon the second time I heard it. Because the implication is that if you don't support an action by your country, you don't belong here. That's just wrong.

But this post isn't about politics. And it's not a pre-apology for the posts, snarky or otherwise, that may (will) come down the pike. I can't please all of the people all of the time. But, in the same way that I have a contract with myself to write at least two posts a month, I can also take a pledge to myself to be authentic in my writing. Intolerance is an ugly thing, but it is the world in which we currently live. I am the paradoxical being who supports human rights for everyone, but not your right to go maskless in a pandemic. On the other hand, I am the liberal who is dismayed by the whole foods, kneejerk wagonjumpers who have called for the prohibition of plastic straws, believing that the research on this supports public service education but not a ban. And don't get me started on the subject of cow flatulence. Overblown (pardon the expression). I have never been a supporter of forcing other people to adhere to your agenda by either side of the political spectrum. And, in this highly-charged environment of today, there are issues that I feel we all want to rant about. And all I can say about that is... Rants happen! And they will happen here in my blogland. So, fasten your seatbelts. It is going to be an authentically bumpy ride. And I thank you, as always, for reading my blog.