Auld Lang Syne

A weekend well-positioned for considering the ramifications of "woulda, coulda, shoulda" and bookended by two movies I enjoyed which also complemented the aesthetic, "Into the Wild", and "Up". "Into the Wild" was Sean Penn's movie of the Jon Krakauer book of the same name chronicling the last years of Christopher McCandless and his ultimate death in the bush country of Alaska. Chris was a well-accomplished, sometimes gregarious, student athlete who allowed himself to be consumed by his self-developed form of ascetism (particularly with regard to material possessions and money). Ultimatedly, this vow took him to a rather isolated portion of Alaska where his rigidly enforced self-dependence created an environment where simple logistical mistakes (lack of supplies, inability to call for help, lack of knowledge of the back country) created a fatal trap with no escape. The irony of Chris's demise is compounded by the fact that in the movie, as in real life, he seemed to have realized a basic error (happiness is shared and his relationships, perhaps, had as great a value to him as his "code"). From my perspective, his larger sin was one of "hubris". He was as much part of the human fabric as any member of his family, and limited by the same physical constraints limiting us all. In the end, his beliefs simply did not have the same capacity to affect his well-being as much as the simple facts of the reality he dwelled in ("There's more under heaven and earth than there are in your philosophy Horatio").

The second movie, "Up", seen in the theatre with J, chronicled the winter adventures of an elderly man who has lost his lifelong love to disease and is haunted by the fact he never delivered on his promise as a young boy to that same young girl he would accompany her on the adventures she fantasized about. Genius thing about the Pixar folks is how they can make a kiddie movie, but also an adult tale about loss and coming to terms with your life. Here, our protagonist, Carl, thru the post mortem discovery of a note from his dead wife, realizes he may not have been as big a failure as he feared. Here again, I don't think we can separate ourselves via our beliefs (or fears), from the real music in our life.

Postscript. Our canine companion of the last 10 years, Moses, appears to have his lymphoma redeveloping. With the costs we incurred in his chemo treatment last summer and fall, and the decreasing effectiveness of a second round (same drugs with a median survival time of 6 months), we can not reasonably pursue another course of treatment and I fear he will likely not see the fall. So for Moses in the winter of his life, who simply experiences and who I shall miss, he's a very good dog.