Good Boys

Went to Good Boys at the Pasadena Playhouse Thursday night. It was what it was re: teenage rich boys being problematic and creating scandal and so on. Secrets from the 70s. A mother unbelieving of what her boy has done. But then an anchor scene I just loved: the same mother ripping into her son. "Do you feel remorse?" "What did you do?" "Why did you do it?" He kept skitting around the living room, being absorbed into a stupid armchair, and she was like, (paraphrasing) "Nuh uh, buddy. You're never going to forget the horrible things you've done as long as you live, and I will see to that, and also this is what it looks to stand by you, by the way." Oh, it was so punk rock. I want to cut that chunk out and send my own VHS copy of it to all the moms (and dads) defending boys. I, at one point in time, did understand "Okay, the world can hate these people, but perhaps their mothers need to still love them or they will evaporate." But lately I kind of feel the toxic behavior will never be atoned under the protection of mothers' love. I know. Easy for me to say. I don't have a son, nor am I one.

When I was in Michigan there was a recurring theme. A question: how are we to treat people we don't sit right with? I am not good at hiding my truth. I think this is one of my greatest qualities and something that tends to create issue in my life. No secret there. I am earnest with people, and I think I am also diligent in finding solutions, but at a certain point I can't forget and I can't pretend. There was a mother I saw on the last night of my stay. I tried to avoid her. I have previously loved this person, but now she defends her son who has done something not evil but worse than terrible. It's not my business to bring it up, but also not my business to want to hug her. I see a person who has also done very bad things. In fact, I am speaking of those very bad things less than one day before I see him, and then he's suddenly in front of me smiling waiting for a hug. So I give the hug, and say nothing of import, and prefer that swift ending than a messy call-out on a public patio plus maybe unfavorable rumors following me?

People say LA is fake, and I find people to be kinder than I thought. I find people to be thoughtful and sincere with said full thoughts. But also I find no one ever wants to deliver bad news, and I find, in some ways, that's appropriate. While he held his puppy in his lap, crunching over the cheese plate I had made, ____ told us that anecdote about Sondheim and Jason Robert Brown and how, yes, when an artist shares something the only right answer is "I loved it" even if you didn't. Martin Short said it in front of my eyes. The secret to success is lie and say you liked it. I have been on the other side of careless remarks after I gut my heart for someone to see, and, I'll say, I never NEVER have thought, "Well, at least they were honest." Absolutely never. I have also been the careless remarker and regret each one, years later. What, did I think I deserved a pulitzer in criticism?

I'm enjoying the freedom to hate things everyone loves. Like Toy Story 4, which I despised. But not because it's cool or I have a nuanced take (like I feel everyone had with I Feel Pretty). No, just a "Maybe I'M the idiot, but I didn't like it, and I like that you did!" I also find an ease in the same freedom to love what I love despite others' hate. But there is this other way of criticizing I just can't hack. That specific cringe when someone is trying to convince me why I should hate what I love or love what I hate. It really does lurch my skin. Let me enjoy, let me not. If you don't, rain on your own parade, okay?