1 July 2013. 10:07 AM. "Whatever works"

Hello sunshine

I probably wouldn't be writing this post if I hadn't seen that movie last night. After an eventful evening of throwing blocks about, making faces at the camera, trying (but failing miserably) to turn somersaults, wolfing down fish and rice, you conked off.

Leaving me to my list of recently downloaded movies.
Ah, peace. :-)

The first movie was one written by the incredibly funny, the deliciously dark, Woody Allen - Whatever works.
By the time you grow up, there will probably be 5D movies about space aliens and the world ending (if it hasn't already ended by the time you read this) Try to get your hands on this movie. Judging from the way you fart on my face and laugh, you seem to share my sense of humor. You'll like it.

Basically, without spoiling anything for you, what this movie is about is the futility of well...anything. It's about this somewhat senile woman who visits a fortune teller, because her husband has left her. The fortune teller robs her off her money, and tells her things she wants to hear. She goes home happy.

Her ex husband is in his late sixties, with a mid-life crisis. He wants to date young women, but of course young women don't exactly want to date him.

So he phones for a call girl. And in 3 months, marries her. The call girl marries him for his money. He marries her to stay young. In six months, after she's squeezed him dry, he runs back to his wife saying he's made a big mistake.

His wife by now has gotten attached to a man who runs a shop. They connect spiritually, she says. 
There are other characters in this film, characters who do strange things. Or at least, strange according to people who tell you that you should be living your life in a certain way.

One thread though links all the characters together. And it is this thread that I want to talk to you about. All the characters do what they want. They do things that make them happy. A married man who can't write his novel turns to a woman who's recently moved in to a flat opposite him. They indulge in a beautiful affair, and he ends up marrying her.

His wife falls in love with an owner of an art gallery, and although they don't end up together, she starts her life over again. And she does something she always wanted to do - set up her own art gallery.

Her mother, a conventional Christian comes to New York and meets a photographer. Together they bonk. Then she meets his friends. Then together all of them bonk. In the end she becomes a hit photographer, and moves in with two middle aged men.

So whatever works, right baby?
What rule applies to someone may not apply to you. So while you listen to yourself (that's always a good idea), LISTEN only to your heart. If that makes sense.

Your old man isn't a religious man by nature. But that shouldn't stop you from being one. If you feel that you should mug up The Gita, or The Bible, by all means, go ahead. If that makes you happy.

If drinking yourself silly for weeks on end makes you happy after a break up, do it. Not everyone has to pick up the pieces immediately and get on with life.

Different strokes for different folks, eh?

It's simple really, this 'being happy' business.
It's like a drink of vodka.

There are various ways to take it.
Take it with a cola, no soda.
Take it with soda and water, no ice.
Take it on the rocks.
take it with tonic water and lime.
Take it from the bottle.
Take it with orange juice.

What works for someone else may not work for you. And vice versa.
As long as it makes you happy, that's all that should matter.

Whatever works sunshine, whatever works.
Right now, this - writing blog entries to a future you works for me. I can only hope when you're older and reading this, it works for you too.


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2 Responses to 1 July 2013. 10:07 AM. "Whatever works"

  1. I am so much in love with these letters .I am following you on FB and going through the updates about Mimi makes me so happy .. she is one lucky girl to have a faster like you . I lost my father at a very young age and don't really know what and how he felt as a father . These letters are making me understand what he might have felt when i was his little racha.



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