Friday, September 26, 2003

Getting Old I was looking at some videotape shot of me at the Cannes Film Festival last May and, I'll tell you, I'm not only getting old, but looking like I'm getting old. There are all these turkey wrinkles in my neck and I'm practically bald. On top of that my memory fails me sometimes these days. I'm not too happy about the fact that I've got nowhere to go but downhill physically, but there's nothing to do but accept it and try to take care of myself so I don't slip too fast. But I've got this cousin who's in worse shape than me that way. She's almost eighty now, and she 's got some kind of dementia. When I came back from California recently I had eighteen messages on my telephone answering machine. Close to half of them were from her, asking me to give her a call because she felt lonely and isolated. Each call indicated she wasn't sure whether she made similar previous calls to me. She'd say things like, "I can't remember whether I put a message like this on your machine or not." When I did get home I called her right away and she was confused. She'd keep on asking me where she could see "American Splendor," and I would tell her when it opened in Cleveland and she would go to mark the date on her calendar only to find she'd marked it previously. She keeps on repeating things over and over, not remembering that she'd said them before. She says that she wants me to call her because talking to me makes her feel good. Believe me, I feel good that I can make at least one person a bit happier. I've known her all my life and she's been close to me. I'll call her every day from now on and hope it makes her feel a little better. Starting today. 11:38:01 AM