Pearl Harbor –
The Gladiator –
Once Upon A Time in America --
Movies I recently watched; entranced by the genius of the intertwining of story and music.
Always it is music that moves me, filling me with emotions I can’t express and barely understand, taking me to a place I want -- need??? -- to dwell. For now; for these moments of reflection. Why?
Pearl Harbor --
Sadness, pain, mother love???
I sense the spirits of these youngsters milling about the music filling my heart and I am overcome with feelings of grief and love. For children I never knew. Survivors who are older than me. Non-survivors who are forever younger than me.
I am in the moment; it is where I want to be, to experience and absorb these feelings. Why?
The spirits of these heroic dead call out to me from the music. These "spirits" draw me to the place – what place? – where they reside. I want to be there with them. I want to hold them and wipe away their tears. I want to lay my hands on their wounds and heal them. Touch them with hands that carry the love of a nation so they will feel our thankfulness for the sacrifice they made.
Why do I feel the need to experience this, to be "there", wherever "there" is. Even though it rips my heart in two, it is not a frightening place. In my own spirit I wander there in my mother’s mantle, embrace the valiant warriors, no more than boys, and press them to my breast. And, once again, I am reminded that War is at once humanity’s most despicable crime and it’s finest hour.
The Gladiator --
Once Upon a Time in America --
What is the genius of these composers who capture the spirit and emotion of the events portrayed in these movies? They tap so creatively into the feelings and emotions I am experiencing and being musically gifted they are able to set it to music.
Suddenly a random thought pops into my head about the difference in time remaining –
-- from babyhood to eternity and
– from me (old) to eternity
Maybe being closer affects my thinking. Maybe this is just a part of growing old and accepting the inevitability of the end to this life. An easing into the place we know as eternity. Is this God’s/nature’s way of preparing us, taking us, inch by inch, into this world beyond our world?
Or is this just crazy, wacky old me, again . . . ?
Rants, Raves, Ruminations, and Remembrances on Family, Children, Miracles, Spiritual Matters and . . . Humor
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Where Have All the Strong Men Gone . . . (Journal Entry 08/04/1998)
The events are real. A situation a relative had to deal with and resolve.
It renews a train of thought -- and question -- I have had for many years. The series of events that actually occurred become a perfect example to illustrate my point.
It seems to me it STILL is and probably ALWAYS WILL BE a man's world.
Women's Lib came along and fought for and got some recognition and justice for women. So now, supposedly, we are equal. We can screw around just like the men.
Except some of us don't really want to screw around. Okay, we don't make a big issue of "you can't F--- me unless we're married. We've learned that getting married in order to have sex is a very STUPID reason to get married.
So some of us don't hold out anymore.
But something bad has happened along the way. Women are STILL getting screwed. Just in a different way. Here is my illustration:
Along comes this guy. He is attracted to the young woman. Crazy about her in some ways. Possessive at times.
So he barrels into her life. Helping her financially. Buying a car (in his name but she has it to use whenever); building/fixing/painting things in her house. Helping her pay for her horse, for God's sake. Spends weekends with her.
Time goes by.
Now he comes over during the week, as well. She cooks for him, nurtures him whatever way he needs nurturing
It begins to look like a long-term thing.
Then he drops the BOMBSHELL..
Along the way they began to talk about "things". Now he wants to "move in". He tells her: "I would have to live with someone for at least three years before I would know whether or not we should be married."
Fortunately, the young woman has the good sense to say "no way, buster."
She knows what a terrible example this would set for her children. Plus, I hope she realizes by the time they lived together for three years there would never be a marriage.
He will have gotten disappointed or angry or whatever enough times that he will think, "Oh, I guess she isn't my dream girl after all."
GIVE ME A BREAK.
THERE IS NO DREAM GIRL. THERE IS NO DREAM GUY.
You COMMIT and work it out. Or else you don't.
So here we are, girls. Still getting the short end of the stick.
Peter Pan is alive and well.
My question is, "Where have all the strong men gone?"
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