Saturday, March 28, 2015

Far from the Madder Men







Mad Men just gets better and better, though I have heard that the sixth season is not as good as the fifth, which is what I am on now. That's okay, I will adjust. I am sure that it is still better than most things on television. Can it be considered as being "on television"?

I just saw the episode in which Lane hangs himself in the office after being caught embezzling. His suicide note was in the form of a resignation letter from the firm. It was the option that he was given, resignation, rather than face the legal consequences. He opted otherwise.


Cato is on his way here. He began a pre-sunrise photo day, crossed the bridge to Sausalito in the dark, early morning, high iso, etc. Now, he heads towards Sonoma looking to shoot. I suppose I should put a battery on the charger. Perhaps we will hike.

I spoke very briefly with Rhys this morning. He will attend the services for his great-grandfather. His first, the grandfather's last. That is the way of things. 

I remember being traumatized at the first funeral that I attended. It was not due to my understanding of what was happening, but rather my brother's reaction to his understanding. He was crying, inconsolable. It was a close friend of the family, of my father's. Joe Crow was his name. My brother's reaction affected me most of all, him being my big brother, me seeing the power that it held over him.

It left an impression of death. A strong one. Finality is restful, in a way. Once the shock passes, the newness subsides, then mostly only acceptance remains. It leaves few choices in how to react as time passes. There are only the choices in how to feel. It's the same as when people are alive, only with the imaginary arrogance of self involvement for another removed. You are no longer provided the luxury of the idea that you can do anything about it, or them, at all. It's like a marriage ending. Life and love are ever meddlesome, death restful. 

Everything becomes "if only..." for a time. Then, even that recedes, powerless against the present, past, and all else.



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