Red Sky in the Morning

Red sky at night, sailor's delight
Red sky in the morning sailors take warning

Sideways had to be the worse movie choice to end an already bad day. The movie was good, and it did have the "hilarious" "full-frontal nudity of ordinary people with flabby bodies" factor, which elicited much laughter in the theatre (like What About Schmidt), but it also was depressing as hell. The knock on the door at the end just didn't bring the hope level up enough. This guy's life was pitiful and his future would continue to be miserable. How could it not? I just wanted to warn the woman: "Run! Don't answer the fucking door! Don't let this energy-sucker into your life!"

Which brings us to me. I teach middle school, my marriage has fallen apart and I am writing a novel. And I am a big fucking asshole. The similarities between the main character and me are way too numerous for comfort. Leaving the theatre I heard a young girl say, "Well, I'm never going to be a middle school teacher!" On a day when I was feeling insecure and unwanted and stupid, House of Flying Daggers would have been a better movie choice. I could at least have been soothed by a movie filled with beautiful color and strong women.

When I am struggling color always brings healing. A red cardinal lights on the bush outside my window, transforming the muddy melting snow into its perfect compliment. It brings with it the color of birth, death and rebirth. But green is the color that I desire. I remember the color green in spring! Once, fields of it stretched out like living medicine as I passed by, my pupils open receptors to my heart. Now, without that green I rely on fading memory for sustenance.

What if this year brings no spring? What if my cyborg eyes, wide open and scanning for first living green are locked on this barren landscape, programmed to repeat, empty head jerking back and forth long after expectation for medical assistance is gone.