Recently I was supposed to go to my Movie and Lunch Club but
I ended up just going to the lunch before the movie. They picked Ben-Hur this month and I was hoping
someone else would show up who’d wanted to see an alternate movie choice with
Meryl Streep and Hugh Grant---Florence
Foster Jenkins. It’s a story about a New York socialite who wanted to
sing opera. Variety said, “Money, it turns out, may not buy you talent, but it
can buy you a one-way illusion of it” and IMBd’s tagline was: “The inspiring
true story of the world's worst singer.”
I was the only one in the group who wasn’t geeked up to see Ben-Hur which wasn’t surprising, given
that all of them are active in their churches. Ben-Hur was not a biblical
figure but the movie was based on an 1880 novel titled, Ben-Hur: Tales of Christ by Lew Wallace, a Union Army General. From
what I read, this film version differs from the 1925 silent film and the 1959 Charlton
Heston version because co-producers Mark Burnett and Roma Downey put the accent
of Ben-Hur’s interaction with Jesus, faith and forgiveness rather than on
revenge which supposedly the early films did. You'd never guess that from the official movie trailer. The new Ben-Hur had a hundred million dollar budget but early reviews predict
it won’t match the 1959’s box office success or its eleven Academy Awards.
After all these years it’s still the 14th highest-grossing movie of all time. (Did
I ever mention that I once listened to the entire Bible read by Charlton Heston? I
had those long playing 33 ½ RPM records for decades.)
As my Movie and Lunch Club stood in the theater lobby waiting
to see if anyone else would show up---some just go to the movies and skip lunch---the
others in the group tried to convince me to go see Ben-Hur with them, but for once I didn’t go along to get along. I gave a couple
of lame excuses: “I’m not in the mood for all the violence” and “I liked the 1959
version too much to want to spoil it in my memory.” (Lame excuses but still,
how could the new movie top the Heston version with its 2,500 horses and nine
minute chariot race?) I should have known that lying is not my strong suite because my
lies gave others an opportunity to try to change my mind. But as we all stood
there in a circle of smiling faces I couldn’t bring myself to say, “I’m not a
Christian and I don’t want to spend $11.00 on a Christian message movie.” I
thought about it, I really did. But deep inside I’m still that little girl in
pigtails who was told, “I can’t play with you because you don’t go to my
church.” Jesus might have preached forgiveness but apparently I’m still not
ready to forgive the parents of some of my classmates who taught hate in the
name of Jesus. So I still hide, still feel like a second class outsider when I
do.
I didn’t want to see the Meryl Streep film all by myself so
when it was time for the others to go inside the theater I went home, telling
them, “Have fun!” And if memory serves me right---okay, I'll admit it full out---a chocolate frosty found its
way into my life on the way home. Comfort foods. Don’t we all have a love/hate
relationship with them? I’d just had a slice of yummy spinach pie at the restaurant with the Movie and Lunch Club.
I wasn’t hungry but I was feeling lonely, alone and misunderstood. And there
was no one to blame by myself. I'm so weak when my inner child shows up.
In the four plus years since my husband died I’ve observed how
acquaintances turn into friendships down at senior hall and in groups like my
Movie and Lunch Club. Pairing up to go to events outside of the core group
seems to be the key. I hear them talk about going here and there together. They seem to have a special radar for finding like-minded
souls. Where are my like-minded souls? Where do people like me hang out in the City of Churches? Where are the childless people like me who
don’t have photos of grand-kids on their phones to pass around a table? If I
took a bunch of pictures of Levi my Mighty Schnauzer to pass around do you think the others would
get the joke going on inside my head?
Recently I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t
shake the thought that I’m truly and thoroughly lonely. More so, I think, than in the first year after Don died when I had bigger fish to fry and I honestly don’t know
what to do about it anymore. Maybe I should have seen that Meryl Streep movie
to pick up some tips on building an illusion without a solid
foundation for that belief. If I tell myself I’m content with my life, can I
make it happen for real? ©
