Sorry in advance, Lost Angeles. I usually like to keep Monday like a stack of pancakes, light and fluffy and syrupy. The thing is, that is not to be on this Monday deep in the least summery of Augusts I can remember since moving to California. It’s just not going to happen.
On Friday, a funeral. On Saturday, a wedding. It was the kind of weekend that put a lot in perspective, both how much there is to look forward to and how much we have to lose.
The sunniest day in memory saw a congregation of friends atop the grounds of the most serene cemetery in Los Angeles. We were almost behind the entire city staring down at the whole sprawl of it. People in suits and dresses moving quietly towards a church tucked in the beginnings of our best attempt at a forest. I always appreciate the way humans find comfort in congregating. I feel more human at funerals than I normally do. It’s a morbid place for the world to make sense, but there is some sort of slow motion I experience. You could almost set it a poignant 70s classic rock track, like the end of movie where everyone says goodbye.
Afterwards, we’re drinking in a bar and I am listening to people tell their stories. It blends into night and I am at a restaurant drinking wine in some kind of a daze. My steak was raw and I didn’t think to send it back. Pile it on my catharsis for the time being. No one can stop me from staring my maker in the face at times like this. I know what is coming for us all which is the only thing that ever helped me deal with it. Things go silent in my head at dinner and I see people’s lips moving and all I can hear is Jets to Brazil’s Sea Anemone in my head… “Starfish with it’s arms out in a daze staring at the stars through and ocean haze…”
At some point I wake up and it is morning. It is time for a wedding. The opposite end of the spectrum. All the best feelings. The event is perfect. It is a testament to the great friendships I’ve been blessed with in the last few years. It’s warm and the whole city of Manhattan Beach feels like a party.
Halfway through the night I felt like I got sick. I think going from human tragedy and back to the extreme opposite took it out of me. I am exhausted during the last song and I watch the bride and groom take a shot with the bartender. They have done it, succeeded in connecting their lives. Emily snaps a photo and it’s my favorite we ever took with this camera. They look happy and relieved and excited to be on the heels of a honeymoon. They look like they made the right decision.
That’s all for now.