Happy Birthday, People...
...on the outside chance that someone has a birthday today. Mine was yesterday. I was born on Kol Nidre. The eve of Yom Kippur. I think that means something. God ushered me into the world personally on his way down to hang with the Jews and hear them out. Let them come clean.
I was told by a very Jewy acquaintance that on this day, today, God is closer to us then he is all year. Like an eclipse. Apparently, you can talk to him casually today. I’m not sure why the change in protocol but I assume it has something to do with sharing your transgressions and shameful secrets and bad things and asking for forgiveness. This is atonement day! You dirty, self-aware apes! You know what you have done, you weeping monkey. Why should you be written into the book of life for another year? Filthy monster. Why?
I assume because of my personal and casual relationship with God from birth that I’m good. I don’t know, really. I am constantly struggling with myself and with my actions and thoughts, with my past and present. Today I will speak to God casually and ask him for help on behalf of all decent humans and even filthy shameless apes. Help us, pal. I’m using the casual ‘pal’ to appeal to the rules of the day but I am fucking serious. God, help us. It’s me, Marc. You brought me down here.
What do you want me to do? How can I help? I’ve done all I can to warn the dummies. Are you trying to teach us something? Is it too late? God, seriously. I’m sorry on behalf of humanity. The good humans and the apathetic ones. The shamelessly evil ones you are going to have to deal with. I can't speak for them.
On my birthday I drove to the beach and sat on a rock. Spoke to sky, said hi to Lynn, thought about fishing, watched families having fun, listened to the waves, wondered how dumb birds are and reflected on my life. I ate mediocre Indian food last night for the first time in months. It hasn’t changed. Texted with friends. I talked to my father. I ate cheese. I listened to Tim Maia’s ‘Nobody Can Live Forever’ on repeat for a while.
I am alive. I am here. I am full of dread but hope creeps in sometimes and life in this moment is okay. Happy birthday to me.
Today I talk to Cecily Strong about herself and SNL and stuff. On Thursday I talk to documentarian Barbara Kopple about her work, including a Sprint commercial she directed in Texas featuring me. Good talks!
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
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