'Cause the Movie Told Me So

Good Morning -

“You’re going to have a magical life. No matter where you go, it will always be better than Tucson.”

No, I didn't dream this line. No, I didn't fantasize about someone wise and benevolent uttering this sage wisdom to me while I cooked in our home (as in my flesh cooking and roasting, not me cooking or roasting a meal - it's August for God's sake - you don't cook here in August.).

This was the final line of the most wonderful movie we saw yesterday afternoon - Hamlet 2. I had heard radio spots for it but didn't know it had a Tucson focus until my partner read a review in the local paper.

Hearing that the character talks about Tucson being a place where dreams go to die convinced me it was just what we needed to watch during the High Hot Humid season other people call August. My humor tends toward dark, and I definitely use it as a healing tool, so a good, dark, dramatic laugh about the miserableness of Tucson sounded great.

We went yesterday afternoon, my bag loaded with ginger ale, jelly beans and a chocolate bar, and both laughed so hard we found ourselves thoroughly relaxed by the end of the film.

In a way it was validating to hear someone else struggle with Tucson (so much so, I think, that he couldn't bring himself to even film it here, but rather filmed Tucson in Albuquerque), but in a way it was strange and a little sad.

I suppose it's kind of like the group therapy experience. On on hand, you listen to your group members and think, "Yes. Exactly." On the other hand, you listen to your group members and think, "Wow. I'm so much more healed than you. Yikes. You've got a lot to process still." (not that healing is a competition and not that judgment is supported in group, but, if we're honest, it happens).

For as much as I struggle now with where I live, I don't imagine that I would ever make Tucson the antagonist in a major work I created. Yeah, it's no longer for me and, sure, I can get quite disheveled and dramatic about constantly sweating in my home and the amount of bugs that descend when I step outside, but I don't hate Tucson.

We're working on a good, lesbian, couples-therapy directed break-up remember? We're coming to this ending in such a way that if I ever ran into Tucson at the grocery, I wouldn't be filled with anxiety or anger. We're dividing our books, working out visitation for the cats, and processing our feelings along the way so that if I ever see Tucson on the news, I won't think, "Ugh! There she is. She doesn't look good, does she? I bet she's gone right back to her hot, dry, prickly ways."

Still, even though he's further down the scale of bad feelings for Tucson, there's a part of me that was comforted to hear that someone else had strong feelings about this place. I don't know if it's strange to get validation from a movie or not, but I figure that, when it's needed, you take it wherever you can find it.

So - that's our Virgen - ticket stubs set against a mountain scene.

Here's to that. Here's to validation. Here's to funny films. Here's to break-ups done well.

Boris. Yes.