The Boulder Over Our Shoulders

Tonight I noted the hummingbird’s feeder was empty and put on a pot of hummingbird juice, setting the timer for 9 minutes, then sat on my couch. Covered in my fluffy whale blanket, I first watched a video of my Dad’s address to his Yale class reunion (33 minutes). Then I scrolled through Facebook, reading about my colleague’s mom’s “forgetting disease” (10 minutes). Suddenly, I smelled a sweet odor, and immediately thought – damnit! my next door neighbor is smoking pot again – our hallway frequently reeks of it. I looked up from my magical pocket brain vacuum to see that my apartment was filled with smoke. I leapt up from the couch, ran to the kitchen and pulled the now blackened pan of sugar water off the stove and into the sink, running water on it and creating further billowing plumes of sickly sweet smoke into the air. Looking with dread up at the smoke alarms, I dashed around, opening the windows throughout the apartment, turned on the exhaust fan over the stove, and pulled out the bedroom fan into the living room to try to push the smoke toward the open windows.

The forgetting disease.

Less that, at least for now, and more the distractions of life and death.

I ventured to the LA County Museum over the weekend with a dear friend visiting from the Sunshine State. We’d discussed several methods of slaking her artistic thirst in the City of Angels. Coming from Florida, she bemoaned the cultural wasteland fostered by dangerous politicians in her home state. I’d had my fair share of culture this week, having attended A Transparent Musical last Wednesday (Highly recommend!) I suggested we try to catch a matinee, because she certainly wouldn’t ever see that in Florida. That wasn’t in the cards for us, because she and her husband had tickets to see Otello on Sunday when the matinee was. Instead, I suggested a trip to LACMA. I haven’t been to the museum in more than five years and certainly not since the new construction project began. I was looking forward to seeing some things of beauty to take my mind off the heavy events of the week. We made a plan to go at 10:30 and have lunch at the museum. That would be followed by an evening performance at LA City College of Kinky Boots, another show not likely to be seen in Jupiter, Florida. Their son was in the band for the show, and I was pleased to get the chance to see another college’s production.

It was a lovely day. A visit to LACMA, followed by a walk up to the Farmer’s Market, and then back to my car, passing briefly under the “Levitated Mass” by Michael Heizer. Boulder over shoulder. Created, or rather delivered on June 22, 2012, this project is a 340-ton stone megalith, which made it’s way with much fanfare and anticipation from a quarry outside Riverside to its current resting spot just north of the LACMA campus. It’s funny that I’d never seen it in place – it had been so famous when it came to Los Angeles. The whole city woke up on those early June mornings to watch the news coverage of the Rock on it’s oversized flatbed wending its way through the city – trees had to be felled to allow it’s passage and reviews were mixed. I have to say that its power was not lost on me this week. When I posted the pictures on Facebook, one of my wry friends remarked that “I grew up in California and was here for ’71 and ’94 and am not walking under that thing!”

It’s been a week. You know what? I hate to break it to you, but we’re all walking under that thing all the time. I’ve been struck all week by what a mercurial thing this life is. I’m pretty sure of a few things as a result.

• We should all be so lucky to attain the age to attend our 70th college reunion and have the capacity to be able to deliver 33 minutes on world events to our rapt remaining classmates.
• Make sure that our loved ones know how you want to end your life in the event that that decision is not yours to make.
• Cherish the moments you have with each other. I love the calls from my son during the day to check in even when they come at the most inopportune moments.
• It’s critical every now and again to take a road trip when you can and stop to see the people who have been important in the fabric of your life.
• Surround yourself with people who know you and accept you for who you are. As imperfect as you might be. Who listen to you when you ask for things. Who will rally around you and your family when things happen.
• Don’t ever delay telling your friends and family how much they mean to you.

As I sat typing this, the cloying sweetness of the failed hummingbird juice stinging my nostrils, I suddenly heard an unfamiliar sound in my apartment. I got up to trace where it was coming from, and it was water, dripping down from the light fixture in my hallway. I quickly grabbed a bucket, and called downstairs to our security desk. They sent a guard up to suss out where it was coming from. I puddled some towels around the bucket to stop the wood floors from getting too damp. Neighbor upstairs. Shower. They’ll come by in the morning to assess the damage.

Great. Another unpredictable event in the week. Lastly, don’t sweat the small stuff. Smoke can be cleared, more juice can be made. Insurance claims can be submitted. Life is so precious. Don’t ever take it for granted.