Words and Owen and Life

Last night Owen was hanging out with us and we were watching an episode of Better Call Saul. I don't remember what prompted it, but about a third of the way in, Owen suddenly paused it and said, "Let me ask you a question." And thus began a long conversation...we never did get back to the tv. He wanted to know why there is such a difference in the acceptability of the word "dick" versus the word "cunt." As he put it, either way you're just calling somebody genitalia. I agreed with him and so we were off, the three of us, on a conversation about cultural context and differences and the way the usage of words evolve. Somehow we veered into racial epithets and the n-word, then onto war...not sure how we got onto that. Oh, I know we were talking about generational differences in the use of words, and my father and WWII and the word "Jap" and how my father changed over the years. I told him about the fact that my father really never talked about the war, except for amusing anecdotes or interesting travel stories, until he was older. The pain of war, the cost of war, that he never talked about. I went on to tell him how the war ended up haunting my father deeply until his death. Owen paused, then ran and got his copy of Ray Bradbury stories, and he asked if he could read one to us. We sat and listened as he read 'Lafayette, Farewell'. 

From the New York Times by Muchiko Kakutani : ''Lafayette, Farewell'' creates a touching portrait of a guilt-ridden World War I veteran who believes - or dreams - that German soldiers have been parachuting into his backyard: ''The good nights are the quiet ones when you just hear the silk and the threads on the clouds. The bad ones are when you hear a hundred and eighty pounds of aviator hit the grass. Then you can't sleep.''

Eventually we were all sleepy, well at least Ernie and I were, and we tumbled up to bed. I laid there and listened to a little music while Ernie promptly collapsed into sleep, and thought about what extraordinary creatures we somehow managed to create. Life isn't always easy, but it certainly is nothing short of amazing.

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Anne McCue at the Rosebowl, Sunday Afternoon on April 3rd!

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RIP Ira Kleinberg