We went to see The Descendants tonight, knowing it would be a little heavier than either of us was in the mood for, but the pull of Clooney is strong so we went. And I was surprised at how it affected me.
- First of all, it made me miss my grandparents in a way I didn’t anticipate at all. I haven’t spent much time in Hawaii, and it caught me off guard at how simply seeing bits of Waikiki beach made me ache for them in a way that usually only happens during holidays and when I hear Tony Bennett or when I’m sick or at the race track. Ed and I have been talking about potential vacation plans for the year and as we left the theater I turned to him and said, “I really want to go to Hawaii with you” and he got it.
- Second, I realized we need to get our shit together and put together an estate plan. At the very least, we need powers of attorney for financial and health care in case GOD FORBID KNOCK ON WOOD something were to happen one of us. And so help me there will be a clause in there that says someone is to maintain my roots, eyebrows, and apply lip balm (acceptable brands and colors will be specified, but odds are anything found in my purse would suffice) because I am not going down all haggard-like. Fuck that shit in the ass.
- Third: who in hell cheats on Clooney with the guy who played Shaggy in the live-action Scooby Doo movies? If that’s the kind of world we live in, there’s no hope for the future.
It really was a great movie; sweet and realistic and funny and lacking in sentimentality while acknowledging that life is fragile and weird and rarely black-and-white. And, you know…Clooney.
