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July 21, 2005

Seraphic Shakespearean Urges

The romantic saga of how I fell head-over-heels in love with Karen. Here, the aftermath of our very first date. It took but sixteen years from the moment I fell in love with Karen to get a first date. I am, if anything, patient.

How I Married Karen — Chapter 11

I take Karen back to her apartment. Leavetaking is particularly difficult for this evening has been the culmination of a dream that started a long time ago. In fact, it began when I was but nine-years old and Karen transferred to Yeshiva Flatbush from Yeshiva Ohel Moshe. I saw her that first day. I fell in love—or whatever it is that happens emotionally to a fourth grade yeshiva kid—and I remained obsessed with Karen throughout elementary school, high school, college, and now, a few years after college we have finally met, purely by accident, at a Jewish street festival on the Upper West Side.

And so here we stand at the front door to her apartment. We are both smiling, and I tell Karen that I will call and we will get together before I leave for Sweden. Do I detect a faint expression of—what, doubt in her eyes? I know that guys say they are going to call and they have absolutely no intention of calling. Ever. But Karen, really, I've been waiting fifteen years just to talk to you!

It occurs to me that I really should cancel this trip to Sweden. I reallyreallyreallyreally should. After all, these friends from Israel will understand. Won't they? But then, I realize that if I cancel I'll probably lose the entire fare. And I do not have a great deal of money. In fact, I live from pay check to pay check. Just barely. I have saved, counted pennies for over a year for this vacation. And there's the simple issue of friendship, responsibility. My friends have long made plans for my visit. I have said that I will do something and not to do it is, well, just plain wrong.

Again, I tell Karen that I have had a wonderful time. Again, I tell Karen that we will get together before I leave for Scandinavia.

I have a tremendous urge, almost Shakesperian, to fall to one knee and proclaim my love for Karen, an almost overwhelming urge to tell Karen that I have always loved her, that I vividly recall watching her during recess of her very first day of school. The other girls were skipping rope in the center of the yard and Karen was leaning against the chain link fence dabbing at her unnaturally pale lips with a snow white linen handkerchief.

I have the urge to tell Karen that I once watched her in the pizza shop on Avenue J with one of the alpha male Yeshiva Flatbush jocks, and when she smiled at him I felt as if my world had collapsed. I will never be that guy, I said to myself.

I have the urge to reveal to Karen that even when I was going out with other girls, even when I liked them, even when I thought that I could love them, her image always pasted itself over their faces and I was left with the sinking feeling that I was doomed to a life never to be lived. I want, oh how I want to enfold Karen in my arms and ask, no beg her to marry me.

Instead, I say goodnight. I shake her hand.

What a dork.

Singin' in the Rain. One of the greatest movies ever made. Gene Kelly has just met Debbie Reynolds, he has, natch, fallen head-over-heels in love. The rain machines are switched on and Gene Kelly dances; he dances with the rain, he dances with the puddles, he dances with his umbrella, he dances with the lampposts. Kelly performs what has to be the most powerful expression of love I have ever seen.

I am no Gene Kelly. And it is not raining. But walking back to my apartment after my date with Karen, I do hum Singin' in the Rain and I know, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my life has just changed. I can finally glimpse what it can be. What I have always wanted it to be.

I have waited all my life for Karen, for this relationship; naturally, my greatest fear is that somehow I will make a mess of it and forever destroy my only real chance at the life I desperately want.

To be continued.

Posted by Robert J. Avrech at July 21, 2005 07:34 AM

Comments

Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.

1. No profanity.

2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism.

That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.

Robert, seems this song was written for you and Karen!...
"You were meant for me.
And I was meant for you.
Nature patterned you,
And when she was done,
You were all the sweet things,
Rolled up in one"
...from Singin' in the Rain

Posted by: Randi at July 21, 2005 10:59 AM

Randi: As I wrote, SITR is one of the greatest movies ever made. Tell me, do you and Mr. Randi ever dance together. Or how about this: do you and Mr. Randi and the the robot ever dance together? Is the robot programmed to sing in the rain? Now that would be quite a robot. A Gene Kelly robot. I'd pay to see that.

Posted by: Robert at July 21, 2005 11:48 AM

Robert...I like that, a Gene Kelly robot! Perhaps we could program him to do a little breakdancing as well. The horah would be nice. By the way, Donald O'Connor (Make 'em Laugh) wasn't so bad in that movie either.

Posted by: Randi at July 21, 2005 11:56 AM

Randi: Donald O'Connor was a genius. Why don't you have Mr. Randi build a... Donald O'Connor Robot.

Posted by: Robert at July 21, 2005 12:19 PM

"I have the urge to reveal to Karen that even when I was going out with other girls, even when I liked them, even when I thought that I could love them, her image always pasted itself over their faces and I was left with the sinking feeling that I was doomed to a life never to be lived."

This is exquisite. Is there anything more beautiful and profound than writing from the heart?

Sometimes dreams do come true.

Posted by: Stacey at July 21, 2005 02:50 PM

Yes Stacey, it appears that dreams do come true. It is nice to see. It is easy to smile at stories like this.

Posted by: Jack at July 21, 2005 03:29 PM

Stacey: Thanks so much for you generous comment. It's odd, but writing from the heart is so difficult. harder than most anything else. Telling the truth demands precision and the veracity of emotions, well, it literally keeps me up at nights, worrying if I've done justice to the emtions described. Sigh. I do my best.

Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 21, 2005 04:43 PM

Jack: Glad I can make you smile.

Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 21, 2005 04:44 PM

"it literally keeps me up at nights, worrying if I've done justice to the emtions described. Sigh. I do my best." Robert...you can get some sleep. You've done more than do justice to the emotions described. I think any one of your readers would agree, it's as if we are "inside" your love story...feeling what you feel. And all because of your beautiful writing. (Your typos are another story, though!)
Randi

Posted by: Randi at July 21, 2005 07:49 PM

it literally keeps me up at nights, worrying if I've done justice to the emtions described. Sigh. I do my best.

Robert,

You are a very fine writer. It makes me feel better to read that because there are many times I feel exceptionally frustrated with how I have expressed myself or should I say how I have not.

Too often I feel like people really do not understand the depth of emotion in what I am trying to say.

Your writing is clear and the words roll off the page quite easily. I have yet to see anything that looks awkward to me.

Posted by: Jack at July 21, 2005 11:00 PM

Randi: Thanks so much. But the typos keep me up at night too.

Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 22, 2005 12:14 AM

Jack: Very kind of you. But you know, most good writers spend their lives being dissatisfied with the words they use to express themselves. I don't know one good writer who is happy with his work. Not really happy. They just consider it...abandoned.

Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 22, 2005 12:29 AM

Robert, may I please beg to differ...?

Are the "most good writers" to whom you refer namely published authors or "closet writers"?

Writing is an art; it comes more naturally to some, yet should also be a learned skill.

Personally, I prefer the "art" aspect, thus being more free-form. Sometimes I reread articles or poems of mine that might have gotten published -- or not! -- and I can't believe I wrote this stuff...not because it's bad, but because I've so eloquently managed to capture an idea, a feeling and clearly painted it for others. Or more importantly, I've managed to paint it for myself.

Yes, I, too, have abandoned writing projects or have just written titles and ideas on scraps of paper, but have not ventured into elaborating on them. Perhaps one day...or not!

Posted by: Pearl at July 22, 2005 06:06 AM

Robert, I have a similar feeling of "not having done justice" when writing my blog. Often I post a piece because it's time to post it already, even though I'm still asking myself, "Is that really what I mean to say?" But my husband told me once that in the technical world there's an apt expression: Sometimes you need to shoot the engineer and get the product to market.

Very interstingly, I've found many times that the pieces with which I've been least satisfied, and have posted just in order to finish and move on, are those to which I've received the kindest comments and which cause readers to open other pages of my blog in order to read more of my story.

Go know.

Sara

Posted by: With Love at July 22, 2005 08:22 AM

Pearl: I'm referring to screenwriters and novelists I know. To a man/woman, they all feel that they could have done better. It's pretty rare for a writer to say, "Wow, I nailed it."

Posted by: Robert at July 22, 2005 09:26 AM

Stacey picked the line I think, and exquisite is a good word for it. I remember you writing about how you told kids you addressed, slowly and deliberately, that "writing is rewriting." I think that's true. More than changing words I think it's often about taking out cluttery words.

Posted by: rabbifleischmann at July 22, 2005 09:59 AM

Yup, writing is rewriting. At the moment I'm rewriting a script. Taking out a subplot that just doesn't work and replacing it with... well, a whirlpool of emotion. It's hard to explain how this happens. But I am taking out clutter and the script is vastly improved because of it.

Posted by: Robert at July 22, 2005 10:11 AM

Interesting discussion. I think poems can be perfected, but with more linear writing like novels it's practically impossible, there is a law of diminishing returns at a certain point. This is why I like making pictures (art, not moves!) most of all- you can literally see when they are just right. Prose depends more on the reader than most genres, especially dramatic prose, which people are going to be bringing to life by acting it- maybe that's some of why. Also maybe because good stories (even true ones) live forever, changing a little each time they are retold, as if they actually exist outside the text. Getting better all the time, but never perfect, a bit like us humans- it's the journey, not the getting there!

Posted by: Alice at July 22, 2005 12:55 PM

The hard part sometimes is not falling so far in love with your words that you are unable to adjust them.

It is a failing that I admit to having. But I'll refocus the spotlight back on you Robert and say that what I appreciate and enjoy about your writing is that it is not cluttered.

Far too often people fail to convey their thoughts because they use "too much salt in the soup."

Posted by: Jack at July 22, 2005 01:24 PM

Jack: Because I have written movies for over twenty years I've learned that less is always more. I've carried this style over into my novels and into Seraphic Secret. Most people use too many words--for everything. Most books are too long, short stories are usually far too long. Most everything that written is just too darn long. Even movies need to be edited. I like brevity. Undisciplined people write long; they don't bother to edit--mostly because they have no idea what they want to say. When Brian DePalma and I were working on "Body Double" together he said to me, "If you can't say it in 90 minutes, then you shouldn't bother saying it at all."

Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 22, 2005 03:20 PM

"Brevity is the soul of wit"...William Shakespeare...(that's all I will say about that!)

Posted by: Randi at July 22, 2005 04:01 PM

I hope you don't mind me asking you this (and I am also asking other bloggers whose blogs I'm reading regularly), but would you be willing to put a link to my site on yours? My site is seriously lacking in Jewish readership and I could use the increased traffic (and more importantly, the feedback) on topics that I am writing about on the blog, and I don't know how to attract more Jewish readers. I'd appreciate any suggestions you have, and I've enjoyed reading your site since I came onto the blog world in March. Thanks. -Zoe

Posted by: Zoe Strickman at July 24, 2005 09:21 AM

Attributed to Mark Twain and others:

"Sorry about the long letter, but I didn't have time to write a short one."

Posted by: rabbifleischmann at July 24, 2005 10:37 AM

I wanted to comment, but all I can say is *deep sigh* Thanks so much for sharing. This is such a wonderful and heartwarming blog.

Posted by: Jean at July 24, 2005 11:33 AM

I wanted to comment, but all I can say is *deep sigh* Thanks so much for sharing. This is such a wonderful and heartwarming blog.

Posted by: Jean at July 24, 2005 11:45 AM

Rabbi Fleischmann: Great quote. Very true. Thanks.

Posted by: Robert Avrech at July 24, 2005 12:47 PM

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