Life's a Circle Caught Inside a Square

Funny how life can come full circle, isn't it?

Once upon a time, I was a screenwriter. Maybe not a great one, but a pretty good one, but one who struggled more than he succeeded. Ultimately, the balls bounced the wrong way, and I ended up taking myself out of bounds. I'm generally happy with that decision, to be honest, though I do miss it.

Going through the process of separation, you get nostalgic for a lot of things. Things from the recent past, things from times long forgotten. You're desperate to figure out who you are, so you reach at straws - if you can't figure out who you are anymore, maybe you can triangulate by figuring out who you were.

I got a pointless urge to re-read a script that I wrote over 10 years ago. In fact, it's the first one I ever wrote on my own (my first script was with a partner), which all but obligates it to being semi-autobiographical, navel-gazing, unselfconsciously pretentious, and mostly bad. And, sure enough, the script didn't disappoint. It's heart was completely in the right place, and nothing else was.

As a writer, I can say that it's very good to have gotten that out, created it and purged it... and only let one or two other people ever read it. Much better that way.

Needless to say, it was a typical coming of age story - young love, first romance, all that shit. Granted, the real life story behind it was... unique... in many ways and more. And I'm not just saying that - the framework for "first love" was atypical to a large degree. But the basic emotional thrust and arc, well... we've all seen this story a million times. But in revisiting it after 10 years, it was amazing to be momentarily thrust back to events that took place in slightly different form nearly 20 years ago. Jesus, I'm getting old.

In retrospect, however, what becomes interesting about the script (at this particular moment in time) is the structural device I chose. Can you possibly guess what it is? Of course you can: the flashback structure. Yes, using a flashback structure was horribly cliche, tiresome and silly, but again, what makes it notable now is how it cuts so unintentionally close to the bone.

In the script, the protagonist's wife leaves him, and this instigates a big flashback and memory of the one that got away. That first one that made Such. A. Deep. Impression.

Isn't every first romance that way?

No, the guy doesn't think at all about the wife who left him, but rather, the girl who first took his virginity. Rather horribly, I never even dramatized the wife at all - she was just a construct to make the guy think about how it was "so much better back when".

But how stupidly ironic is that? What was I doing here other than obsessing over a past that's long been cast to the winds of memory, all as a way of avoiding what's right in front of me. Finishing the script in record time (its quality didn't demand a careful reading of every line), the script ends with a group of friends toasting the protagonist on the day of his divorce, trying to buck up his motivation and self-esteem for what's coming around the corner.

I recently had a similar night, out with a divorced guy who was telling me about what I may find around the corner.

How strange to read those words from a 24 year old writer, who had absolutely no conception that he'd face a similar situation some 10 years down the line. A kid so immature and inexperienced that he couldn't possibly understand just how traumatic, devastating and complicated it all would become. A flashforward premonition without even realizing it. When it was all just a dramatic construct, a structural device, and not a very good one at that.

Somehow it all comes full circle, inside an inescapable square.

Young Love, Marriage and Mormonism

My son, Zach, married this morning. To two women.

Ella and Tala. He's either a Mormon, or a total stud.

Need I mention that my son is 3? Ok, 3 1/2, he'll tell you. Zach made sure to explain to me that, "We held hands and got married. But it was just pretend". Thanks for the clarification, Zach.

Needless to say, he's gotten his first marriage out of the way, which at this point in my life, I commend him for. I hope that the tattered ends of this marriage do as little damage to him as mine has done much. He deserves it.

I asked Zach who officiated said ceremony, though I didn't think to inquire about caterers, florists or placecard settings. Instead, Zach told me that a kid named Oliver tried to edge in on the proceedings, creating some emotional havoc between the happy threesome.

"But Tala and Ella didn't want to marry Oliver", he insisted. Zach didn't want to marry him either. Apparently he wasn't in the mood to share.

I don't know if he even grasps what marriage is. He obviously understands the dissolution of the relationship between mommy and daddy, but does he know that mommy and daddy are "married"? That they will someday be "divorced"? (I still haven't yet bought one of those helpful books of dinosaurs divorcing, because who better to associate with divorce than extinct meat-eaters who once ruled the earth?)

I recall my own first wedding. I was six. I married Katrina. We walked down the "aisle", between a row of kids, and some kid probably mumbled something about us now being married. Then we went over to the chain link fence to find out if we could kiss for the entire rest of recess. I think our lips actually stayed locked that whole time, and didn't do much else. I subsequently remarried in fourth and sixth grades, which I think was the peak of my appeal with girls. I'm pretty sure Zach's appeal will last longer...

Maybe it's a good thing to get the first one out of the way. Maybe the second time is meant to be better. My second marriage was with Rebecca, a 4th-grade brunette who towered over me by a good 2 or 3 inches. Maybe it was even 4. Remember that age when the girls all shot past the boys? Yes, I remember that time. Unfortunately for me, the guys largely picked up on the slack... I didn't. But I've long come to terms with the genetic hand dealt me; it's not a big deal to me, though now that I am suddenly "single" again (shudder...), I realize and hate that it actually still is a big deal. My ex never cared... maybe there will be others.

Back to first marriages... Why can't we learn the necessary life lessons when we're three, or six, to avoid all the heartbreak, anger and resentful discussions over who gets what picture frames and bedding sets?

Three year olds are much better communicators, frankly, than adults. They feel something, and they say it. Adults don't do that. They hold it in, build up anger and misunderstandings, and eventually explode or implode. A 3 year old would never do that. No, they would speak their mind, just as Zach did today, saying "Oliver, I don't want to marry you". You tell that boy, Zach. Don't marry him. You got the girl (well, girls, actually), as I knew you would. Destined to be a little heartbreaker.

I just hope he takes some of the lessons from today and learns from them. I wonder if he asked for a pre-nup.

I am, but I'm not

Today was my wedding anniversary. 8 years. Except she all but ended the marriage 5 months ago.

A piece of paper says I'm married. Nothing else does.

If you're married in a forest, does anyone notice?