I have been unable to finish a post for this blog for many weeks now.
My dad's passing has left me uninspired.
I knew it would be hard to lose my dad, but I did not know that dad made the whole family different. I did not realize that he was acting as a link. So now I've been dealing with the loss of something more than my dad. I've been dealing with the way his absence changed how our family connects. It reminds me of a game I played in the 80's-- Tetris.
The point of Tetris is to rotate falling shapes to fill in gaps in order to make a whole line.
Finding how to fill the space that dad's absence has left in our family is something I'm dealing with right now. I have to learn how to match the shape of what I still have, with what is now missing.
I got pretty good at Tetris, hopefully I will gain the same skills with my family.
Speaking of the 80's--a few days ago I was given an unexpected gift.
Against instinct, I went out to meet two friends at a local bar.
While we were there, acquaintances of theirs walked by our table and our parties decided to merge.
Carl, is a writer and filmmaker.
His latest movie in 2008 is
Unfortunately, since I knew nothing about Carl's documentary that includes how Dr. Jonas Salk of Pittsburgh invented the vaccine for polio--I could not contribute anything remotely smart to the conversation.
Nope.
But what I did know was that I enjoyed Carl Kurlander's 1985 movie called,
"St. Elmo's Fire."
So as my friends Carole and Dionne were intellectually discussing non-profits, fundings and career suicides with Carl and another guy named Nathan Schwartz--
"St. Elmo's Fire."
So as my friends Carole and Dionne were intellectually discussing non-profits, fundings and career suicides with Carl and another guy named Nathan Schwartz--
I was completely fixated on getting insight about the inspiration behind one of my all-time favorite movies.
I waited until there was a lull in the intelligent conversation before I inserted myself.
In as blase a manner as I could muster, I informed him that his 1985 movie was translated into Filipino (I made that up)
Carl, by this time encouraged by of a couple of Bellinis, was tickled by the idea of his work translated into some obscure language, shared in his endearing self-deprecating manner--little known facts that "kindled" his writing of
'St. Elmo's Fire.'
He worked as a bellhop at a St. Elmo Hotel in Chicago.
He first wrote St. Elmo's Fire as a short story to woo a woman named Lynn.
He first wrote St. Elmo's Fire as a short story to woo a woman named Lynn.
Lynn, completely ignoring the romantic overtones directed at her, suggested that he submit his work where it would be better appreciated.
He won a writing scholarship and went on to write and produce in Hollywood.
Though Carl's character is played by Emilio Esteves, he bears no resemblance to the actor.
This was very interesting to me considering my first boyfriend was a guy that vaguely reminded me of Emilio Esteves...and Emilio's love interest in the movie, Andie McDowell? Well I don't look anything like her either.
Featuring angst amidst the backdrop of severely aqua-netted hair and shoulder pads, St. Elmo's Fire was MY movie.
While I did not engage in sex, drugs and rock and roll at age 19, I always felt that my friends and I could identify with the characters of the movie as we initially floundered after college graduation.
Carl did not end up with Lynn, and I did not end up with "my Emilio."
However, the gift of meeting Carl, a self admitted defeatist who was inspired to write by a force stronger than reason -- has encouraged me to write again.
It was all I could do to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks and say thank you.
