Tears for a Parasocial Friend

I have a false memory. I wanted to say that when I was a little girl, I remember hearing the news that Gregory Peck died. I was sad and talked to my older sister about it. She chided me and asked why I cared since I didn't know him. Looking up when Gregory Peck actually died I saw that I was already in my 20s when that happened. It wasn't him, but it was a prominent actor that I knew of, but apparently because I wasn't in their sphere, I shouldn't mourn their death. 

 

My mother always described me as a very sensitive child. Accurate and I call it anxiety now. Or detail oriented depending on how I use it. 

 

The memory that is more vivid and more painful is when my best friend called me up in tears when Chris Farley died. Our friendship was forged in cartoons and comedy (specifically SNL). I don't remember crying, but her pain made me hurt and I wouldn't be surprised if I cried for her, him, or both.

 

Hearing the news of Chadwick Boseman's death came on the heels of the end of a live online comedy show. My husband stole my phone to make sure I didn't read the news and ruin my evening. It didn't stop others in the Zoom chat sending their quick RIP messages. I thought maybe it was a strange reference to Doug Loves Movies and how he jokingly would say that about a random celebrity. The joke being that how horrible would it be to be the one to find out about someone's death from a quip in a comedy show.

 

I was shocked. I hurt. I cried. I'm tearing up just remembering it. I also felt a sting of my sister's words decades ago. I didn't know him. Why was I crying?

 

I could analyze this. In fact I did in the moment. He was only 43 and died from the same cancer that took a family member of mine last year. He brought to life incredible characters and gave us portrayals of real life trail blazers.The videos of him with his fans were incredible and show what a beautiful human he was. How could he be gone when he had more stories to tell, more art to create, and more lives to touch?

 

At the same time, I had bawled my eyes out mere weeks ago watching Avengers Endgame. Of course that scene will hold even bigger weight as now the reemergence of heroes centers around the one who is now gone. 

Friday night I was crying for him as my "sensitive child" wanted to talk about it. My younger self that taught me to walk it off wanted to shove my hurt down and not bother anyone. My husband held me as my conflicted self went through the very small list of those I can allow myself to be vulnerable with. He encouraged me to call a very special friend. Pretty much the only one I admitted to last month about my Avengers tears. Bless her and her reaction of "Makes sense. I did that." Have this kind of person in your life. 

But what if she hadn't heard yet? I couldn't be the one to tell her. Yes, I fear being the bringer of pain, even though I did not cause it. I cried as I debated and drafted a text that wouldn't worry her. Can't be too light because that's not fair to spring my crying during what was supposed to be a quick call. I loathe showing weakness that I cannot control. I do not want to hurt my friends.

 

Escaping to social media was a mistake. While the videos of those reminiscing about Black Panther's release and fun experiences of Black Panther fans being surprised by him appearing from behind a curtain, my happy tears were still tears. The devastating ones came with reading those asking for help on how to tell their children what happened. And the one that recounted their child's reply if it was because of the cops or COVID. Or the photos of super hero toys mourning the loss of Black Panther. 

 

Not to sound like the biggest asshole, but I thought about all the future Marvel projects. I am shamed that I cavalierly thought, they'll probably just have to focus on Shuri. And while I typed this, I was bummed that one of my favorite SNL skits Black Jeopardy featuring T'Challa will now be sour instead of brilliant and hilarious. There internet, please punish me for my lapse of selfishness.

If you hurt. You are not alone. I'll leave you with this beautiful image and text from Instagram account Melanin & Mental Health.

 

Why We Grieve People We Never Met

1. Their work helped us get through a difficult time in our lives.

2. Their work inspired our dreams & goals.

3. They modeled possibility.

4. Their death triggers our grief of previous loss.

5. Their passing activates our fears around death.

 

Source: Instagram @melaninandmentalhealth

 

 

 

May you be well. I wish that this is what I was told all those years ago.

No Drano for My Tears

This week I needed to cry. Badly. I had overworked my angry muscles. I needed to express myself and have a catharsis.

But didn't want to cheat. If that even makes sense. On Monday I went down a rabbit hole of YouTube clips. I landed on scene in Avengers Endgame where (spoiler alert) the ashes of the dead come back in a Dr. Strange portal. There was a riveting moment of seeing their success and the cavalry return that gets me. Tiny streams came to my eyes.

Not good enough though. I refuse to allow this Marvel movie to make me cry. A movie must be straight up animated and I'm watching a mother die (fuck you, The Land Before Time) or Pixar montage of a couple's life together (fuck you, first twenty minutes of Up) for me to accept my tears.

That's right, I had to earn a catharsis. I've managed to easily laugh to try and ease my burdens. I think my body caught on. Funny TV shows aren't working anymore. Time with friends have me smiling, but I'm burned out on mild contented laughter. I think I need an angry cry.

My brain took over and decided I would not get The Chainsmokers & Coldplay's Something Just Like This.

Then I looked up what it meant. I appreciate this thoughtful analysis about it and how it's just beautiful at face value.

I don't know why it happened. The song is still in my head. I'll let it stay there for now. Thank goodness I like it. I remain on my quest for peace. But not like the Superman in the song. Oh great, I can't just let a pop culture reference go, can I?

For Your Laughing Pleasure

No surprise, I've been trying so hard to not drop into complete sadness in my brain. It's difficult to do when my muscle memory keeps me on various social media platforms. BOOM, the reality of the world in my face, BAM! Ow, my heart. 

To meet somewhere in the middle, here are four comedy sets that touch on some of what I'm focusing on, but also making me laugh. I used to just get sad at the mention of the existence of upsetting things. That happens. Comedy is subjective. But one day it was pointed out to me even if a comedian is talking about real problems or serious topics and I don't feel that I have the right to laugh about it, they are also inviting me to laugh. 

So without further distraction (yep, I did get sidetracked by social media again in between typing these paragraphs), please enjoy.

Dulcé Sloan

White Women Talking About Feminism

 

Whitney Cummings 

What It Takes for a Man to Get Called Crazy

Taylor Tomlinson Judges Your Wedding Choices

Julia Shiplett

Why Can’t the Maid of Honor Roast the Bride?

Black Lives Matter

I'm at a place right now where a few days ago I thought about posting about the License Plate Game or riddles from Die Hard 3. Unfortunately, as my neighboring cities are being looted, I am sitting here holding back tears because all I can do is hear George Floyd's words "I can't breathe". 

I did not and do not have the courage to watch the video. I see these words and photos of his face and all I feel is pain. I retreat to my room and wait for the emotions to pass. I am privileged to get enough time to no longer hurt. 

I made the foolish decision to go back on social media right now. For some, it ignites a passion that helps them fight, but for me and it's like sticking my hand in a fire. Know what you need to do to keep your mental health stable. Then I want all of my people to do exactly that. 

Because when we are in a place where we are healthy and functional, it is our responsibility to do what we can to dismantle these injustices. Now is the time to critically view yourself and your privilege. Educate yourself and question what you have been taught and always been told. Listen to the black community and do the work to understand why every issue is rooted in race. 

It is hard. You may hurt. You may cry. But it is a reasonable sacrifice. We must do better.

Simon Phoenix Rising

I'm late to the party, but when I first thought of this, I was still late to the party. The internet is too fast to keep up with. We are slowly experiencing why the world became the 2032 of Demolition Man (1993).

Trailer doesn't do it justice.... see what I did there.

Here are the facts. 

1. I'm in California so I've been under rules to stay at home since mid March. Not even a week after that, I began getting emails ending with "Be Well". A small change, but my pop cultured infused brain began to connect the dots.

2. My husband pointed out (what he also saw from the internet) that this pandemic might result in no more handshakes. Or some replacement that does not involve touch.

Baby Benjamin Bratt and baby Rob Schneider!

3. Toilet Paper. Duh. I'm still not even clear how "the three seashells" works, but I've pivoted to cloth napkins and dish towels to eliminate paper product usage. 

4. Free food from Taco Bell is how they are going to win the franchise wars. 
 

Don't know what day it is? That's okay, just know TODAY you can get a FREE Doritos® Locos Tacos from our drive-thru.

— Taco Bell (@tacobell) April 7, 2020

I highly doubt a single restaurant would wipe out all other restaurants, but I also never thought I'd be ordered to stay in my home until a pandemic was under control. 

The easy joke to end this post to to cross my fingers for the invention of virtual sex. Given how much I'm missing hugs lately, I'll just leave that one alone. I swear to crap though, if they outlaw meat, I will riot.

Kneeling to the Tiger King

I realized a long time ago that social media is Keeping Up With the Joneses on steroids. With being forced to connect virtually, social media has exploded again and now I'm experiencing peer pressure on acid. (I didn't want to repeat the same expression, but I think you get my point).

I admit wholeheartedly that I can say no whenever I want. Instead, I will say that I chose to begin watching Tiger King. Going onto Facebook and not understanding memes was driving me nuts. Two of my favorite podcasts  adding bonus episodes to talk about the dang docu-series also made it worse.

Why can't I find a cute dog video anymore?

I just gave into watching the Fyre Netflix documentary this week. It came after some serious work stress and did nothing for my anxiety of being pressured by a narcissist to do as you're told. I actually didn't need to watch that either, but sheltering-in-place is brought down my pop culture walls. I'm saying yes to my husband's request to watch things more. Thank goodness he has good taste, just not his finger on the pulse of what's going to make me cry. (Which lately, it's best to stay away from schadenfreude and animal harm based entertainment. Actually, that's all the time.)

As of this posting we are one episode in and this whole thing is messed up. I want to jump to the spoilers. Is anyone dead? You can go to jail for attempted murder. Am I really taking PETA's side? Husband pointed out that I don't have to take sides. Strike two of him not knowing me at all.

I think the best part is that after seeing the idiotic antics so far, I was not quite phased. Husband asked if it was because I listen to Dumb People Town. YES! I agree with the premise that dumb is getting louder. Years of listening about dumb asses in dumb ass situations is not as shocking as it used to be. Murder, though is too much for me. DPT has a "no one gets killed, no women, children, or animals get hurt" filter. Looking back, I am grateful for that rule. 

Who knows where I'll end up emotionally after finishing the last episode? At the very least, I'll have context for all the memes (which is no guarantee that I'll understand them). Oh well. You win again, society.

I Know That Chin

I have the kind of brain that always want to find familiarity in my surroundings. At times it is against my will and my brain needs to shut up. Just right now, I saw a guy walk by and thought, "It's McLovin, but nerdier."

Yes, even nerdier than McLovin. I'd get into more detail but I think that speaks more poorly of my character than his appearance.

I made a stop at a grocery store to grab lunch during a road trip and had to halt my appetite to take a photo of the Brawny packaging.

Who are you?

My first thought was...Jon Hamm? But no. Jon Hamm is classically handsome, but not flannel handsome. Then I needed my husband to refresh my memory who I thought it was.... you know...from Magic Mike. He guessed Channing Tatum as he has never seen the movie.

I guess I should be proud of him for getting the lead right, but I was not pleased. Clearly this half face was NOT who I was thinking of. No, it's the other guy, from Magic Mike and the USA show.... and also American Horror Story.

Ding, ding, ding that got my answer. Matt Bomer. 

That's the chin you want on your marketing materials.

Now the rest of the body is too bulky, but I stand by my observation. Doesn't fully matter though. It'll take more than a sexy man chin to change my loyalty from Kirkland paper towels. I may consider it if you put on Captain America's Ass. Maybe.