Happy New Year, Folks?
I guess we can dream and wish. Stay in the day.
It’s the feeling of powerlessness and isolation that is daunting. Even though people who believe in democracy are not really the minority, the cultural force and momentum of what is coming is overwhelming. It almost feels like it’s on purpose. Like that's the plan. Like real authoritarian shit.
A third of the country is terrified and hopeless. Another third couldn’t be more thrilled about that. And another third doesn’t really give a fuck either way. Those are the ones that scare me the most. It hinges on them. Maybe my math is off but the ratios are tight and it doesn’t bode well for vulnerable people.
I’ll be honest with you. My holidays have been pretty trying. I’m not really a holiday person and I wasn’t really buying into the forced festive nature of the time but last week was marked by panic and minor crises that I guess were educational somehow. I’m not knocking the holidays and I am certainly open to any and almost all distraction on a daily basis with an enthusiasm that can only come from existential terror.
I was forced into the present a few times last week.
I went back to New Mexico on Christmas Eve. I went to see my dad to get a feel for where he’s at with his dementia and to spend time with the timeless vibration of the state that defines some part of me and grounds me.
The night I got in I went to a small family gathering of his wife’s family. Ate some tamales. Split. He seemed a bit more vacant but still present for the most part. The following day I got a call from my cat sitter that Charlie had explosive diarrhea all over the house. Literally all over the house. It’s not a small house. On my bed, in the dining room, in the den, the stairs. Almost like he was making a point.
The next day was the large family gathering of my dad’s wife’s family. I go every year. Again, my dad seemed okay. Detached, but okay. After another call from my cat sitter that Charlie is still shitting everywhere I had Kit take him to the vet the next day.
Christmas night I decided to go see A Complete Unknown. My dad went home and his wife’s son and grandchildren were going there to open presents. Ten minutes into the movie I get a couple of calls and texts from Rosie, Dad’s wife, saying there was a problem with my dad. Then her granddaughter texted saying I had to call Rosie because my father was being abusive and crazy angry. I left the movie and called. Rosie told me my dad threw a rage fit and told everyone to get the fuck out of his house and he started kicking presents around. Apparently, he did this all without his walker. Anger is a powerful drug.
Everyone was scared and shocked at the outburst.
She put him on the phone because she believes I’m the Dad Whisperer, which I am. I asked him what the fuck was wrong with him and why did he lose his shit and scare everyone. He said he didn’t. I pressed him. He said it was because no one was talking to him. So, he ruined Christmas for everyone.
I wish I could say this was because of his dementia but he did this my whole life. Erratic, abusive outbursts when it wasn’t about him enough. I told him that. He said it wasn’t true. I got choked up.
It’s what remains of a person. I guess it was a long shot that my old man would become docile and manageable like some dementia patients do. The 'fuck you' is the last to go with guys like my dad.
I enjoyed A Complete Unknown. Very good film.
All that said, Charlie was diagnosed with stress-induced colitis because I left him. I realized he does this in one way or another every time I leave. Doesn’t eat, vomits, shits or a trifecta. Now I know for sure.
I have a dad that rages when he doesn’t get love or attention and a cat that shits everywhere for the same reasons.
On Friday morning Kit went by my house and found the ceiling leaking in the kitchen. I woke up to the possibility of a burst pipe and my house being out of commission while the ceiling has to be torn out. Awesome. I had her turn off the water main and pulled a team together over the phone to deal with it that night and I flew home a day early.
It turns out it was the loose bolts on the bottom of the tank of the toilet upstairs. Water was seeping into the floorboards and finally bubbled the paint and leaked into the kitchen. A blessing. Just a paint job fix.
What did I learn? That needy animals can be dangerous, scary and may shit all over everything. And sometimes things aren’t as bad as you think. Important lessons.
Happy New Year.
Today I talk to actor Ron Livingston, who I like. On Thursday we have a special Ask Marc Anything episode.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
