Dear all, I’d written the piece, below, on Sunday, intending to post it soon. But now my country is dealing with the murder of children. What to say? How to understand such senseless cruelty, yet another angry tormented loner determined to inflict as much pain as possible? As a mother, a grandmother with grandsons in a local school — suddenly their safety seems fragile, easily lost. Our prime minister had tears in his eyes as he spoke. The country has come together, briefly. Another tragedy: that it takes something so horrific to unite us.

But it did. It has. May it last.

Sunday, Feb. 8. Was in my study dancing with Nicky this morning — my usual Sunday morning hour-long Zoom dance with her and the group, fabulous playlist today including Birthday by the Beatles, the rockingest tune ever — when I picked up my blog book from 2016, interested to see what was happening ten years ago.

President Obama, sigh. Sarah Palin – do we remember the horror of Sarah Palin, when we thought she was as low as the Repugs could go? On Jan. 21 2016 I call her “Lady Braindead Looselips.” Jian Ghomeshi’s trial. Downton Abbey. Sherlock. Feb. 3, 2016, “the warmest February 3 on record in Toronto – 16 degrees.” Feb. 14, 2016: “Record cold on Valentine’s Day – the coldest since the 1800’s.” Minus 40 with wind chill; my pipes froze, and I had no water for hours.

The movies Room, Spotlight, Brooklyn, Carol, The Danish Girl, a damning doc on Steve Jobs. Death of Alan Rickman and David Bowie. Wayson is told he has the start of dementia.

My grandson Eli is three. He has learned jokes. “Knock knock,” he says. “Who’s there?” I say. “Eli,” he replies. “Eli who?” I say. Slight pause. “Eli,” he says.

I write about a doc on Mike Nichols. “Funny is where stuff goes into your heart,” he says. “[Silkwood] was about someone who’s asleep who wakes up. And I realized that was me. All my work was, finally, about me.”

In an overview of his work, he said, “People say, about a work of theatre or film, Why are you telling me this? And one answer is, Because it’s funny. But that’s not enough; it doesn’t fill the gaps between laughs. The second answer is, Because it’s about you.”

I quote this, from someone unknown, “The horrifying moment when you’re looking for an adult but then realize that you are an adult. So you look for an older adult, someone successfully adulting. An adultier adult.”

There are to this day people in my life whom I, aged 75, consider adultier adults, in a way I do not consider myself.

The life of BK and everyone she knows, all there on the internet and also on paper, in eight very thick books from 2007 to 2024. 2025 on its way. Moving right along.

A few days ago I posted on FB: “Last night I watched a fairytale on TV. It portrayed the politicians and civil servants running the U.S. government as 100% ethical, extremely intelligent, well-educated, articulate, savvy about the whole world. They all care about the truth, about the law and the constitution, especially about human decency. It was a repeat of a show called The West Wing, and it made me mourn. In the early 2000’s I watched it obsessively to see the best possible iteration of the American political system. The gap between what is portrayed and what is happening now is impossible to comprehend. How has this formerly great — if deeply flawed — democracy sunk so low? How is it possible the worst human beings on the face of the earth, the vilest, most dishonest, unethical, racist, greedy, hypocritical scum are running the most powerful country on earth? How will this planet survive them? Where are President Jed Bartlet and his team now that we desperately need them?”

Invisible right now.

Watching The Pitt, although it’s too gory, I have to cover my eyes periodically. But the characters are terrific and it’s very good TV. I also re-watched the first long episode of Get Back, Peter Jackson’s doc about the Beatles preparing for what was their last concert. No question, there’s a lot of sitting and fooling around and grousing and bickering. They’re also making fabulous music, and what’s clear, always, is that the only driving force is Paul. John is vague, druggy, consumed by Yoko, the other two passive. Paul has ideas, is writing songs and trying to push his bandmates, keep them on track. He’s relentless. That’s how it’s done. That’s why he’s doing it still, at 83.

I taped Spinal Tap 2 and started to watch, realized what a bad idea this film was, unfortunately. But zipped through to see the part where Macca comes in. He’s funny, sweet, as he tries in all seriousness to help these hopeless musicians. At the end, Rob Reiner in character asks him what keeps older musicians playing — the love of music? Macca agrees, before adding, “And drugs.” Made me laugh out loud.

I had a ticket for a show called Becoming the Beatles last night but did not go. It was bitterly cold, and I know quite a lot about how the Beatles became.

Read Susan Orlean’s memoir Joyride, which is terrific, and Patti Smith’s memoir Bread of Angels, fascinating though not an easy read; her writing style takes getting used to, but she has lived an extraordinary life.

It’s cold now, but the sun is shining. A big big help. I’m not embarrassed to say I still spend too much time watching clips of Heated Rivalry on FB. May young Hudson and Connor find a way through the madness of instant fame, back to the heart of their honesty and talent. Their joyful incandescence is a boon this cold winter.