I've Been in My Mind, It's Such a Fine Line

Color Me Kubrick (2005) the true story of a man a con man named Conway who conned. Con vinced people that he was the great director. This in London during the early Nineties (19 not 1890s). John Malcovich pretended to be Conway but he was acting and not trying to fool people except for while they watched the movie. But even then....

Was quite a do in its time, the Conway business. As it is whenever someone successfully masquerades as a famous other. But aren't so many people so often acting like something they're not? Putting on a show, you might say. Acting. Self important buffoons making themselves out to be really special or be in special circumstances or having a special event. We're all special so don't need to act that way. But we do. Exaggeration one of the greatest games of deception we play. Mostly don't get caught.

In my early 20s, after having been in England for a bit and being pretty good with accents, I used to go to bars and pretend to be from London. Thought it would help me pick up girls. It did. But it never ended in anything better than a one night stand. Sorry.

Yeah so the film entertained. Word I used in telling the missus about it was "charming" I may have substituted delightful if I'd told someone else. I guess I'm telling you. By the way, "hi."

But besides being charming and delightful, Color Me Kubrick got me thinking about the degree to which people avoid being themselves. Sometimes so much so that they take on a whole different persona. Woody Allen's Zelig (1983) does a wonderful job of exploring this theme. Usually though we just take our essence and tweak it. Often to make ourselves more interesting or appealing. Usually both. Truth is so hard to live. Doing it is rewarding. Even beautiful. Definitely liberating. But many people spend their whole lives running away from the truth of their selves. Sad really.

Hey, just be yourself. In job interviews? On dates? At parties? When meeting old friends? You can try. Beats starting to believe your own lies.

-- Subject change --

I just got back from the gym and my endorphins are tangoing. This is good. I ran four miles on the tread mill and lifted weights. In the sauna I was astounded by one of those (negative adjective) who thinks that this is the place to exercise. No (negative adjective), that's what the rest of the gym is for.

I showered and changed. Once again I wished that I could share a locker with Victoria Secrets models rather than men, many of whom in no way resemble Greek Gods. I swear to you that I would do nothing inappropriate if my shower and changing area were populated by female models. I'd just appreciate the view a lot more. And by the way guys of the Berkeley YMCA, no offense.

Took the bus home. Sat across from a high school girl who looked like the kind of girl I would have gone out with when I was in high school. Some girls look like the kind who I would have had a crush on but would not dared to talk to. Others look like the kind of girls who had a crush on me but I was not interested. This stuff happens.

I looked out the window at one point and saw a young couple, probably college students, walking arm-in-arm all lovey dovey. I remember being that age and in love and feeling like the greatest most important and happiest person on the planet. I also remember being head over heels in love with someone who I wasn't sure felt the same about me. Exquisite torture it was. Hard to sleep, hard to concentrate on anything. An ulcer waiting to happen. Young love, whether fulfilled or unrequited is an all consuming flame. Being dumped is hell on Earth.

Today I am married to one of those women I had a mad crush on. Requited. I try not to take it for granted. I try to appreciate this remarkable gift. I try to be worthy. That's all I can do.

There was a fat middle aged woman on the bus loudly chewing and smacking her gum. Loud gum chewing is one of least attractive sights in our civilization. Have you ever met a really intelligent person who chomps gum loudly? Neither have I.

The bus ride was wonderfully quick and entirely devoid of accidents. Shortly after entering my house I sat down at the computer. Then I wrote this.