Sunday, June 24, 2007
Tomorrow dear readers, Is the 38th anniversary of my birth. Lucky me. To have made it through 38 whole years. Well, not really. I was born into a rich country, but a poor family. Either way I did not have to suffer too badly to make it this far so all is well I suppose. Anyhoo, that is not the point of this post (if this post does, in fact, have a point). I just watched Billy Wilder's The Lost Weekend starring Ray Milland (who won an best actor Oscar for his role). A lovely film about an alcoholic. Seems this one was based on a book by a Charles Jackson, and is semi-autobiographical. The reason for the main character's drinking is changed from the book from a homosexual fling to writer's bloc. Which is part of my point. It seems my production on my blog is down due to writer's bloc (again). One of my problems is that I keep having brilliant (at least to me) ideas as I am about to fall asleep, and promptly forgetting them the next day. This has happened more than once, and is rather disturbing. Perhaps I should have pen and paper at my bedside to write these idea down. However, lucky for me Mr. Wilder helped with an idea. Seems our main character is the "hiding booze from the family" type. Going to great lengths to hide his rye from his brother, and his poor girlfriend. One of the downfalls of this type of drinker is that sometimes they get so drunk they forget where the next bottle is hidden (which happens in the film in a very dramatic fashion). The main character needs a drink to help him get over his writer's bloc. Trouble is, one drink just is not enough, and after the bottle is gone, so is the ability to write. A vicious circle, a perfect circle, the beginning is the end, and the end is the beginning. This is the drinker's dilemma just needing that one drink to solve whatever problem they are facing, but the first one just tastes so bloody good it is a shame to stop at one. If one helps me relax, and think more clearly, then two or three should allow me to solve not only my problems, but the problems of my friends, neighbors, hell the whole world! Next thing you know, you are sobbing your life away, or desperatly trying to get the key into the keyhole at what you hope is your house. For me this is the worse kind of drunk you can be. The dishonest one, hell let the world know that you aren't a drinker you are a drunk by doing it in the light of day (or at least the half-light of a pub). Besides, most of us have the drunk relative that we do not talk about in polite company so we are wise to the hiding it thing. At least our boy Mr. Milland admits to being a drunk when he is confronted. What a stand up guy. Like no one could tell by the way you act. We all have problem's be it writer's block, bad debts, bad relationships, or bad breathe, and we all deal with them the best we can. The trick is to deal with them, and sometimes that sucks, and sometimes it hurts, and sometimes it does not seem to help, but you never know until you try. Maybe the problem is not as hard as you thought, maybe the solution is as plain as the nose on your face. Who knows maybe the problem can be solved merely by watching a good, old, Billy Wilder film. Personally, I have been in the bottom of several bottles, and only found out, much to my dismay that the problems I was trying to solve were still there in the morning, and that they had been made worse by the raging hangover I had obtained in trying to solve them.