BRIEF ENCOUNTERS
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October 15 2012
One day, toward the end of summer, I was folding Joel’s underwear which I had just brought in off the Tuscany clothes line, and as I stood there, I had one of those pangs of awareness that shifts the ground beneath your feet; the overwhelming realization that one day I would no longer be standing in this world folding the underwear of the man I love. It was a moment both divine and bereft, but what has stayed with me is the gratitude for life that allows us the ability to perform the simplest of chores.
This past Saturday I had a similar moment while sitting with my dear daughter and telling her that 22 years ago to the day I broke my neck – and broke it within less than hair’s breadth of my life, that being the measurement given by doctors when they look at my X-rays and wonder why I’m still here. As I looked at my daughter I had that sudden jolt again, but this time it was about still being in the world, for 22 years I so nearly didn’t have. What a miracle.
How easily we forget. How many times in those 22 years have I grumbled at having to fold the laundry, yet again. I know everything is relative but really, I would like to connect more often to the privilege that so many of us take for granted: the ability to live in a society where we daily have the freedom to perform the mundane and sometimes the miraculous. As opposed, say, to the 14 year-old girl from Pakistan recently shot by the Taliban for wanting to going to school. For wanting to go to school. Doesn’t it make you think about how much we squander in our lives?
Talking about lives, my dear Joel is celebrating his 50th year as a photographer and along with our book, his retrospective book, and the Royal Photographic Society Award, he was given, last Monday, the Lifetime Achievement Award at the Lucie Gala.
We flew out to LA on the Saturday and checked into the Beverly Hilton where the black tie event would be held in the Ballroom. But first, it being LA, there were a couple of other events to be had. We did think it a bit odd when we checked in to find that almost every guest was accompanied by a dog and were somewhat alarmed that our room might bear a whiff of canine if this was such a dog-friendly hotel. As it was, our room was directly over the restaurant vents gagging us with an aroma somewhere between hospital trolley and school canteen.
Back to the front desk to request a room on a higher floor which unfortunately would not be available until the following day as the hotel was fully booked due to the Hero Dog Gala to be held that evening in the same Ballroom where we would be wagging out tails come Monday. Yep, The Hero Dog Gala. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen owners and dogs in formal wear, the only difference between them being that the dogs had medals pinned to gowns or tuxes, as the case may be. And yes, there was a red carpet, which we tried to crash but were shooed away from like, well, bad doggies. So off we went to sniff out dinner.
Los Angeles. The desolation. The empty streets. The opulent cars. Rodeo Drive. Did I mention the desolation? We walked in and out of 6 restaurants, our depression growing along with our hunger. But I’ll say this for LA, it’s always full of surprises. Just as we were about to give up and return to the mini-bar snacks, we stumbled upon a tiny Japanese restaurant that had just about the best miso soup, seaweed salad and sushi we have ever had. Sated and tired we walked back to the hotel where we aptly watched The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel before drifting off.
On Sunday we had our first event: a reading and presentation from our Provence book at the Santa Monica Barnes & Noble, an event we nearly didn’t make as the hotel and all surrounding streets were put in lockdown for two hours because Obama, in town for a fundraiser, was staying overnight on the floor above us.
God, what a life he opted for. Gunmen on the roof, armored cars, cement blockades, bomb-sniffing dogs, secret service on our floor as well as his, Airport scanners in the lobby. Too bad the hero dogs had left, I thought, because if ever anyone needed rescuing right now …
As it turned out, we could have missed our event. 5 people showed up, 2 of them friends of ours. Turns out only one sales person in the entire store knew there was an event that night, so it hadn’t been promoted. But good troopers that we are we put on a good show and actually sold 4 books! Hey, 4 out of 5, those are great percentages.
The next event was the Lucie’s which were, well, a bit like the Oscars really: lots of great looking people in great looking clothes, the red carpet, paparazzi, loud music, some very moving moments outnumbered by boring, overly long speeches. And then my man, star of the evening, ageless, exquisitely attired, erudite, from the heart and brief.
Which brings me back to those briefs I was folding this summer and the brevity of life which somehow manages to pack in more events than we could ever foresee but which we might all fold with a little more care and a little less complaint and place on the shelf marked “Gratitude.”