Saturday, June 19, 2010

The Irishman

My first date with The Irishman was a quick after work drink with a time limit. I’ve had a lot of practice dating and realize that there is absolutely no such thing as cyber chemistry. We had exchanged a couple of e-mails and chatted on the phone but it was time to see if there was really anything there.

We agreed to meet for a drink and both had someplace else to go when our hour was up. I of course arrived first and ordered my favorite smart cocktail, a scotch and water. He arrived with a big smile on his face, sat down next to me and then ordered a beer. I was surprised how easily we chatted. We covered everything from politics and religion to children and love. As he teased me about my liberal leanings a big grin appeared, letting me know he was pulling my leg, and he leaned over to kiss me. Just a lovely little kiss that made me keenly aware that I’d like to have a few more of them. Suddenly it was time to go. The Irishman paid for our drinks and then we walked for a couple of blocks before we parted with another quick kiss.

The following Friday morning he called to say that he had the day off and wondered if I could meet for breakfast. Work was too busy, but I let him know I would be free for a late lunch and a walk in the park. Friday finally came and I was excited to see The Irishman again. As I watched The Irishman walk toward me on the street he seemed more attractive than I had remembered. Perhaps it was his height and strong gait or perhaps those quick, sweet kisses had been working their magic behind my brain. Whatever the reason was, when we were finally walking up the street together and gabbing away, I realized how lovely it was to be in the company of The Irishman.

We stopped at a local restaurant for a snack then made our way to the park. As we walked, chattering away about this and that, I directed him to a spot where the view was particularly lovely and he leaned down to kiss me. It was soft and lovely and I kissed him back. We walked a bit further and he kissed me again as we wound our way out of the park and back on to the street. I took his hand for a while, enjoying the feeling of his large rough hand in mine.

As he walked me home I knew we had a few more minutes before he had to go, so I suggested getting some water and sitting in the back garden until it was time for him to go. The Irishman accompanied me upstairs and then as I was taking bottled water from the fridge he kissed me. This time it was a long and wet kiss and I fell into it. I tried to restrain myself and stiffened my body beneath his touch. It was ridiculous really. I found him remarkably sexy. He was funny and handsome and easy to talk to. I wanted nothing more than for him to have his way with me, but I didn’t want to screw it up by screwing him too soon.

“Leave him wanting more,” was the only thought in my mind....

Sunday, June 06, 2010

The Last Lecture

It is a beautiful evening. It’s twilight, and looking out my window I can see how the remaining low light is dancing on the surface of the Hudson River making it the most remarkable color of blue, a blue that matches the top of the sky. In between the river and the top of the sky, the black outline of trees is covered by a thin layer of orangey-gold, moving to yellow to green to deepening shades of blue until you get to the top of the sky that matches the river below.

I am lucky enough to see how the sky is different each time the sun sets. Even though it only takes a moment to take in the awesome changing sky Mother Nature paints for me each night, most of the time I don’t take the time to really look. Perhaps it was the tears in my eyes this evening that changed the light and made the colors more vivid. Perhaps it was the fact that I had just finished reading an extraordinary affirmation of love and life that my eyes were merely open.

I watched Randy Pausch’s ‘last lecture’ ages ago. I saw him interviewed on Oprah and cried, and then cried again as the news of his passing was broadcast. Last year I was walking through Barnes & Noble, and thought perhaps the purchase of his book, THE LAST LECTURE would help support his family or give money to a charity benefiting those suffering with pancreatic cancer, the same cancer that took my dad from me.

Since then his book has been on my bedside table. I assumed it was merely the transcript of his final speech, so I thought it was old news. Last night, feeling like I needed a little inspiration, I cracked it open before bed. I couldn’t have been more wrong. This was not a speech transcript, but an incredibly moving compilation of lessons on how to live. THE LAST LECTURE is a book to be read over and over again. I picked it up after spending days feeling sorry for myself, struck down by a cold! It’s joyful tone made let me know that it’s okay to indulge on occasion; and more importantly that one should always find their bliss. I plan to talk to all of my friends about it and to encourage them to read it. I want everyone to read it. I want to read it again when I’m happy and feeling good. I want to talk about it.

Run to the store. Buy THE LAST LECTURE and read it as soon as you can. Then, let’s get together for a smart cocktail and talk about what we dreamed about as children.

Friday, June 04, 2010

I Love Bobby Rivers

Bobby is a new friend, but I feel as though I’ve known him for years. His face and voice, coming from the television in my early days in New York, provided the background and soundtrack of some of my best memories. He always seemed to be on TV and I was amazed that he was so easy when talking to the likes of Tom Hanks and Meryl Streep. He was a celebrity in his own right, but there was something about him that made me think we could be friends. Bobby was warm and funny and I knew he would be fun at a party. I loved coming home, putting on my pajamas and watching Bobby banter with my idols.

Life is funny. All these years later and we have actually become friends and I’m beginning to understand why he was so good on TV; why we all wanted him in our living rooms and bedrooms; and why some of the most amazing people in the world have been interviewed by him and feel the same way I do about watching Bobby Rivers.

Bobby is a smart man with an encyclopedic knowledge of film and can talk to a post. I love that about him. Bobby listens because he really wants to know what you have to say. Listening is a special gift. A lot of people ask questions but few actually want to hear the answer. The end result? You'll tell him anything.

Today I was struck by a piece Bobby wrote about growing up. The piece is called Bobby Kennedy: Watts 1968. Read it.

Our childhoods couldn’t have been more different. Even so, I felt closer to him as I read his story about growing up. Bobby Rivers has a way of intertwining our history with culture and making us more the same than we are different.

I am baffled that NBC News has hired Cody Gifford to review movies when there is someone far more entertaining and knowledgeable available.

All I can do is quote Whoopi Goldberg – “ What the hell?!?”