Well, then. I have a remedy. As usual, however, my remedy comes with a back story. ( I think I may already be that crazy old aunt who will explain the history of leeching in medicine when someone asks for a band-aid. Damn.)
Anyway.
My music history prof once declared to a room full of skeptical post-adolescents that any person who can watch/listen to La Boheme without crying has a serious emotional disorder for which there is no acceptable alternate diagnosis. You can't even blame that kind of emotional stunting on presbyterianism. As skeptical as my compatriots, I thought he was just doing the "it's OK for men to love Opera" thing. And then I saw La Boheme, and gave every liquid-producing gland on my face a serious workout.
But suppose you aren't in the mood for Italian-singing Parisians, what can you do?
You can watch/ listen to one of the more recent recensions of the tale of star-crossed love.
Spend a rainy afternoon watching RENT.
But don't just do that. Watch RENT while explaining to a relative with cardiac and vascular issues that Jonathan Larson , the creator of RENT, was another Gower Champion story. And try not to think about the fact that you are moving away from said ill relative, at least for a time. And while you're doing that, think also about the subject matter of RENT; creative young people living with and dying of AIDS in New York in 1989-1990. And then think about the creative young person you both loved and lost in New York in 1990. And by the time the cast finishes singing "La Vie Boheme" you won't have a tissue, paper napkin, or paper towel left in the house.
I promise you it'll work.
1 comment:
i love RENT.
damn. now you make me want to waste the afternoon watching/ listening to RENT instead of writing about Chaucer.
wait, i'd rather do anything than Chaucer.
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