This morning my husband was flipping through the pages of a little book a friend gave me, "The Quotable Woman." Many of you have probably seen it in your local bookstore. He read one quote to me and we laughed together. Then he said, "Funny, there aren't any quotes from that one woman . . ." and paused, not able to come up with her name right then. I looked up and said, "Dorothy Parker?" "Yes!" he said.
Now, how did my brain suddenly just know, out of all the millions of women alive, the one his brain was thinking of? In Malcolm Gladwell's book, Blink, he discusses how the brain processes information, sifts through all sorts of facts you've come across in your life, and somehow picks out the exact thing it needs. If you haven't read it, you should.
Then I asked my husband, "Do you love that, or hate that? I mean that I knew exactly what you were thinking?"
"I love that - I love that!"
And, that, my dears, is one of the things marriage is about.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Monday, April 17, 2006
Golda's Balcony
Never Again
Those are the words inscribed on the nuclear warheads in Israel. I didn't know that until yesterday when I went to see Golda's Balcony, a one-woman play starring Valerie Harper. This is the story of a woman who grew up in Milwaukee, only finished the 8th grade, left home when she was only two years older than my grandson to go to Denver and live with her sister, and eventually came close to ending life on this planet. Hearing about her decision to go to Palestine in 1921 and work for a state for the Jews, I could not imagine myself doing such a thing. But maybe for her it was the same as when I threw as much as I could into 3 hefty bags and loaded my kids in the car and left home and eventually made a life unlike the one I thought I would have.
It was amazing to realize that when Golda was agonizing over whether to strike first at the countries aligned against Israel during the Yom Kippur War in October of 1973, I was agonizing over whether or not I had cancer, not knowing that this growing tumor in my belly would turn out to be my darling daughter, Nancy. I had no idea that across the world, a fearless and tough woman was the one who truly held my fate in her hands.
This play revealed a truth that I had not seen quite so clearly before: that history is made by ordinary people doing extraordinary things.
Those are the words inscribed on the nuclear warheads in Israel. I didn't know that until yesterday when I went to see Golda's Balcony, a one-woman play starring Valerie Harper. This is the story of a woman who grew up in Milwaukee, only finished the 8th grade, left home when she was only two years older than my grandson to go to Denver and live with her sister, and eventually came close to ending life on this planet. Hearing about her decision to go to Palestine in 1921 and work for a state for the Jews, I could not imagine myself doing such a thing. But maybe for her it was the same as when I threw as much as I could into 3 hefty bags and loaded my kids in the car and left home and eventually made a life unlike the one I thought I would have.
It was amazing to realize that when Golda was agonizing over whether to strike first at the countries aligned against Israel during the Yom Kippur War in October of 1973, I was agonizing over whether or not I had cancer, not knowing that this growing tumor in my belly would turn out to be my darling daughter, Nancy. I had no idea that across the world, a fearless and tough woman was the one who truly held my fate in her hands.
This play revealed a truth that I had not seen quite so clearly before: that history is made by ordinary people doing extraordinary things.
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