I feel like my head is filled with lead; like I’m one of those bobble-headed dolls with a lead weight right at the bridge of the nose. Sinus. Allergies. I forgot to take my antihistamine yesterday. Last night I had occasion to hang my head (don’t ask). Fluid dripped out of me like a leaky faucet. I could feel it draining and it didn’t feel good. I’d been watching “Henry Poole Is Here”, an indie feature about what happens when an image of Jesus appears in the stucco on the side of a dying man’s house. It was a ‘feel good’ movie; the sort that might run on one of those indie cable channels that my husband is so fond of. I never watch them but the cable guy is here for the 4th time right now trying to find out why ours have disappeared. But I digress. I liked the movie. No gore, no killing and the simple message that miracles can happen if you just believe. I can use a miracle right now. I got it on Netflix: a never ending source of movies you wouldn’t have paid to see in the first place but now you can get as many of them as you can watch and return for a set price each month, so you do. You can even watch old TV shows; whole seasons of them! Do you remember when you were young and the whole family gathered to watch “Ed Sullivan” or “Bonanza”? (I wasn’t really allowed to stay up for “Bonanza” but I was allowed to watch the opening before being shooed off to bed. I listened from bed and caught them in reruns.) It was an event! If you missed an episode, tough luck. Episodes were independent of each other so, if you missed one, you weren’t totally lost. The family was still there, Paw, Hoss, Little Joe and the boring one, vanquishing a new enemy each week so you didn’t have to keep track. Nowadays, miss one episode of your favorite show and you might as well give it up. Oh, they try to help you with “Previously, on XXXX”, but it’s no good. The reminder only works if you actually saw it; as an educational tool, it is useless. But even that doesn’t really matter anymore because, if you have any semblance of wits about you, you recorded or TIVOed your favorite shows and then, even if the whole family does want to see the same thing, they can do it at different times. I usually watch when it first airs. My husband will watch when he comes home late at night. My son will watch when his friends can join him. We never have to sit down and watch a show together! In fact, if we DO manage to sit together, it leads to an inordinate amount of eating.

I’ve been on a ‘feel good’ bender, trying to shake out of this downward spiral of unemployment and general uselessness by immersing myself in uplifting movies. Jesus-on-the-wall followed Jim Carrey’s “Yes Man” and found myself thinking I would try that: saying “Yes!” to whatever comes my way; to opening myself up to the universe and seeing where it takes me. Clearly what I’ve been doing hasn’t worked so I’ll try it. The first thing that came along was an online survey about a recent experience with my bank and their new policy of charging even more exorbitant fees for me to use my own money. Apparently, they didn’t think they had enough of it. Normally I would delete this immediately. But I said “Yes!” and I filled it out. “You’re representatives are very nice but you policy setters are bad, bad boys!” We’ll see where that leads me.


The kick-off for my bender was “Inglorious Basterds”. I can’t say I’ve been a big fan of Quentin Tarantino. While I like the simple morality that pervades his films, I usually spend at least half of the movie looking away until the screaming stops. But “Inglorious Basterds” was an adrenalin shot to the heart; a great movie at which to be a Jew; a great movie at which to be a person who needs to believe we can overcome tyranny; a movie for anyone who needs to believe there is justice in the world; in short, a fantasy. Sure there were times I had to turn away, but even then I was laughing. Even this morning, as I brushed my teeth and remembered the final scene, a little gag rose in my throat. It’s a truly sick person who can make you laugh at stuff like Nazis and cruelty, blood and gore. I loved every perverse minute of it.

So the cable guy has left and I hear my husband flipping channels to see what crap he has missed. I think it is safe to leave my room and find my pills. Today I will join a gym and see what uplifting matinee I can catch at half-price. I will say “Yes” to the Universe and, when I get home, there will be a dozen applications for my classes in the mailbox. Shut up; it’s MY fantasy!