I finally watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind last week, after missing it in the theaters (I miss everything in the theaters these days) and kicking myself until it finally came around on DVD. Like The Truman Show before it (Jim Carrey’s masterpiece) and Being John Malkovich before that (Charlie Kaufman’s masterpiece), ESSM is both engaging and disturbing.
It lingers, festers, even now, a week later. From the very concept of being able to erase someone permanently from your memory, to the pain of watching a relationship deteriorate in reverse chronological order. I don’t know how you write a story in reverse chronological order. Maybe you write it like normal and then just publish it in reverse a little at a time.
Also, the perverse pleasure of figuring out how it all fits together just before it’s all gone. And finally, the very last memory erasure scene, on the beach, where Joel and Clementine-the-past meet for the first time on the steps, and Clementine-the-present says,
“This is it, Joel. It’s gonna be gone soon.”
“I know.”
“What do we do?”
“Enjoy it.”
Acceptance is the last stage of grief.
I’ve also travelled a lot in the past two weeks. First to New Orleans for pleasure, then to Austin for business. Eight flights all told, all going through Atlanta. If memory serves, I believe one of them was on time. The other seven were in various degrees of lateness, ranging from a few minutes to two hours. None of the flights left on time, although one did arrive on time. There’s a lot of slack built into the system. None on the flights were cancelled or delayed so far that I missed connecting flights (the one that was two hours late was on the final leg home), so I guess I came out ahead. It would have been nice to come out ahead sooner than 1 AM, but you can’t complain too much in the airport lottery system. No really, you can’t; they’ll throw you out and blacklist you and all your dopplegoogles.
Another thing I noticed during eight too many flights is that the stewardesses take some liberties in the standard safety announcement. I have been having difficulty finding the official text online, but there were definite differences. One stewardess was having some fun with it (”for those of you who have never been in a car, the seat belt can be fastened by fitting the metal clasp into the buckle”), which made me want to find the exact text since it seems like such a ripe opportunity for parody.
“Please take a moment to locate the nearest exit, keeping in mind it may be behind you.” Or “might be behind you.” Or “two nearest exits.” Or something. “White lights lead to red lights, which indicate the exits.” Or is it “illuminate the exits?” The mind has its own way of remembering things.
That phrase always seemed out of place to me, like something from a dream. “White lights lead to red lights…” It sounds like something out of Brazil. I don’t know. Certainly not something that belongs in a somber safety announcement.
“Please take a moment to locate your best days, keeping in mind they may be behind you.”
“Please take a moment to locate the nearest weapons of mass destruction…” And so forth.
I had a dream last night about new love. This was undoubtedly inspired by the lingering aftereffects of ESSM rattling around in my head. Actually, no, it wasn’t about new love. I dreamt about the time before new love… when everything is just new. When a smile or a wave would keep you going all day, and laughter is like emotional crack.
I’ve always liked Ravel’s “Bolero.” I’ve heard several radically different versions, ranging from the New York Philharmonic at 13 and a half minutes, to the London Symphony Orchestra at 15, to the Philadelphia Orchestra at over 17 minutes. The slowest version is my favorite. I heard it once in person, by the Philadelphia Orchestra, conducted by Riccardo Muti, back when he was doing that sort of thing in Philadelphia. He told an anecdote about the first time “Bolero” was performed, and Ravel was there to hear his new composition, and was pissed that they played it too fast. “No, no, no,” he cried to the conductor. “That is not my Bolero.” “Maybe not,” the conductor replied, “but it is the Bolero.”
The latest “Bolero” in my life is the background music in Baby Van Gogh. We have pretty much the whole set. The Kid loves them. We call them “Baby Crack” — Baby Bach, Baby Mozart, Baby Beethoven… Baby Van Gogh, Baby daVinci, Baby Galileo, baby baby baby…
White lights lead to red lights.
Everything is new again.
everyday man everyday….
Comment by Don — Friday, October 15, 2004 @ 5:45 pm
BTW Have you heard the Bruce Hornsby tune
“Goona Be Some Changes Made”?
Comment by Don — Friday, October 15, 2004 @ 5:50 pm
I watched Eternal Sunshine last Sunday and cried my eyes out. The single quote you published in this entry is enough to make me want to do it all over again.
Comment by Etan — Friday, October 15, 2004 @ 9:20 pm
Except neither character in the movie was the least bit interesting. They were both annoying - well, she was, and he was just insipid. Erasing both of them seemed a good idea. The film overall was not so well done. Compare with Mememto, which was very well done, and very well acted.
Comment by stylo~ — Friday, October 15, 2004 @ 10:07 pm
Memento. (”Mememto” has yet to be made.)
Comment by stylo~ — Friday, October 15, 2004 @ 10:11 pm
Memento is my favorite movie, ever. Doesn’t mean I can’t love Eternal Sunshine.
I’m a romantic, that definetly has something to do with it.
Comment by Etan — Friday, October 15, 2004 @ 11:36 pm
Love that Baby Crack - a whole generation is going to grow up loving Mozart and have no idea why.
Comment by Andrew — Friday, October 15, 2004 @ 11:54 pm
I thought it was good movie. No less, maybe a little more. I would have thought it to be incredible but I saw Being John Being John Malkovich which deals with many similar concept but is much funnier and much more intelligently written (by the same writer of ESSM). Over all Being Joh Malkovich is just a better movie.
Comment by Andrew (the other one) — Saturday, October 16, 2004 @ 2:42 am
Heck yeah - baby crack! Our little guys is one year old, and he only has to _hear_ the strains of Baby Bach and he motors on over to the TV. Crazy stuff.
Comment by Ben — Saturday, October 16, 2004 @ 6:00 am
From the sound of the stewardess, it sounds like you were on Southwest. As they consider themselves the “fun” airline, they tend to take liberties with the usually drab safety announcement. It does make the flight just that much more enjoyable, I’ve found. Humor goes a long way.
Comment by Damon — Saturday, October 16, 2004 @ 10:00 am
The buckle line sounds very similar to the tone taken by Virgin Blue, which is the low-cost airline in Australia, and also considers itself “fun”.
Comment by James A — Saturday, October 16, 2004 @ 10:18 am
> …which made me want to find the exact text
> since it seems like such a ripe opportunity
> for parody.
Like this one? Sent to me by a friend who was at the time a British Airways flight attendant. I don’t know the original source:
In his own words…. “I was flying to San Francisco from Seattle this weekend, and the flight attendant reading the flight safety information had the Whole plane looking at each other like “what the heck?” (Getting Seattle people to look at each other is an accomplishment.)
So once we got airborne, I took out my laptop and typed up what she said so I wouldn’t forget. I’ve left out a few
parts I’m sure, but this is most of it.”
Before takeoff…
“Hello and welcome to Alaska Flight 438 to San Francisco. If you’re going to San Francisco, you’re in the right place. If you’re not going to San Francisco, you’re about to have a really long evening.
We’d like to tell you now about some important safety features of this aircraft. The most important safety feature we have aboard this plane is … The Flight Attendants. Please look at one now.
There are 5 exits aboard this plane: 2 at the front, 2 over the wings, and one out the plane’s rear end. If you’re seated in one of the exit rows, please do not store your bags by your feet. That would be a really bad idea. Please take a moment and look around and find the nearest exit. Count the rows of seats between you and the exit. In the event that the need arises to find one, trust me, you’ll be glad you did. We have pretty blinking lights on the floor that will blink in the direction of the exits. White ones along the normal rows, and pretty red ones at the exit rows. In the event of a loss of cabin pressure these baggy things will drop down over your head. You stick it over your nose and mouth like the flight attendant is doing now. The bag won’t inflate, but there’s oxygen there, I promise. If you are sitting next to a small child, or someone who is acting like a small child, please do us all a favor and put on your mask first. If you are traveling with two or more children, please take a moment now to decide which one is your favorite. Help that one “first”, and then work your way down.
In the seat pocket in front of you is a pamphlet about the safety features of this plane. I usually use it as a fan when I’m having my own personal summer. It makes a very good fan. It also has pretty pictures. Please take it out and play with it now.
Please take a moment now to make sure your seat belts are fastened low and tight about your waist. To fasten the belt, insert the metal tab into the buckle. To release, it’s a pulley thing —- not a pushy thing like your car because you’re in an airplane. HELLO !!
There is no smoking in the cabin on this flight. There is also no smoking in the lavatories. If we see smoke coming from the lavatories, we will assume you are on fire and put you out. This is a free service we provide. There are two smoking sections on this flight, one outside each wing exit. We do have a movie in the smoking sections tonight …..
Hold on, let me check what it is
…
Oh here it is; the movie tonight is… “Gone with the Wind.”
In a moment we will be turning off the cabin lights, and it’s going to get really dark, really fast. If you’re afraid of the dark, now would be a good time to reach up and press the yellow button. The yellow button turns on your reading light. Please don’t press the orange button unless you absolutely have to. The orange button is your seat ejection button.
We’re glad to have you with us on board this flight. Thank you for choosing Alaska Air, and giving us your business
and your money. If there’s anything we can do to make you more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask.
If you all weren’t strapped down you would have given me a standing ovation, wouldn’t you?”
After landing… “Welcome to the San Francisco International Airport. Sorry about the bumpy landing. It’s not the captain’s fault. It’s not the co-pilot’s fault. It’s the Asphalt.
Please remain seated until the plane is parked at the gate. At no time in history has a passenger beaten a plane to the gate. So please don’t even try.
Please be careful opening the overhead bins because “shift happens”!!
Comment by Ed — Saturday, October 16, 2004 @ 5:24 pm
It’s interesting as to the affects of classical music on pre-born babies. Maybe parents are finally figuring it out and therefore the increase in appreciation by the youth.
Comment by cigars — Saturday, October 16, 2004 @ 9:21 pm
Dude! Your writing is like crack.
It’s always scarce but highly addictive.
This is such the post of a new father. “New Love”. Gosh, wait until The Kid is seven and asserting his life and you’re there standing in the playground trying to remember how your life before him was, longing for that “New Love” feeling in everything you do but scare shitless at the thought of what that would be now at the cost of not having The Kid, the true love of your life, around.
The thing is that, even if I had known then what I know now about life, love and longing, I still would choose The Kids over anything else. Life as a parent … Love as a parent … Love and Life are never the same after you become a parent.
The tricky part? Finding a balance among love, life, longing and The Kids. I guess that’s what makes “new” in this kind of life.
Best,
liza
BTW : ED’S STORY WAS HILARIOUS! Let’s give that man a blog!
Comment by Liza Sabater — Sunday, October 17, 2004 @ 4:39 pm
“A bolero is not a funeral march.”
Mark,
Regarding the anecdote about Ravel: The story I heard was that the conductor was Toscanini and that what he actually said to Ravel, when Ravel complained to him that the tempo was too fast, was “A bolero is not a funeral march”.
Comment by Michael Smith — Monday, October 18, 2004 @ 1:24 am