Letters To Parade: Maturity Is A Rotten Whore

Of all the things people say about me, I can count on my hand the number of times the word "mature" has been used. Frankly, I'm a little childish. I understand that. I'm ignorant. I understand that. I'm mean-spirited. Sophomoric. Egocentric. Show a blatant disregard for the Christian faith. Cut people off in traffic because I don't like their bumper stickers (if you've got a Bush/Cheney sticker on your car, and a frumpy Jewish guy in a Volvo bumping rap music to cuts you off, flips you off, and then hits the brakes, that's me). Forget to put the seat down. I don't suffer fools. I'm tough, but fair. I'm a straight shooter. I don't pull my punches. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. I understand all of that. But mature I've never really been.

Why? Well, I chalk it up to a few key issues:

1. I just don't give a fuck. That's a big one.

2. I'm mature when I need to be mature. For instance, the other day I was talking to my friend (and former publicist, so perhaps he's still looking out for my best interests in publicist sorta way) Peter about a rather cool event that's going to be happening to me in November (I'll discuss more about this at some later point, but, I assure you, keep Nov. 8th open if you live in LA), and he said, "Now, you realize, you have to behave yourself. You can't be...Tod."

"You know, Peter," I said, "I've walked in society before. I know how to act."

"Right," Peter said. "How to act. So remember to act like an adult version of yourself."

Sadly, Wendy and I had had the same conversation 24 hours previous.

"You can't be all...Tod...you realize, right?"

"I've done this before," I said. 

"I know, I know," she said. "But you have to come big here. You can't be..."

"An idiot?" I said.

3. When dealing with fools, I often become an aggressively mean, mocking ass. I've gotten better at this over the years, though I recall a class I taught once several years ago where there were exactly four people in it who liked me and twelve who hated me. They hated me because they were writing some of the worst fucking drivel I'd ever read and couldn't be convinced that their novels needed serious revision. One student in particular was writing a novel about a boy on a farm who comes of age. It took place in the 1950s, as I recall, and featured a lot of lines like "I take no truck with that." After reading  100 pages of people takin' no truck with that, but little else occurring, I suggested the writer cut about 75 pages and start having his characters take some truck. As in, have some conflict. The writer told me he didn't think a coming of age story needed conflict. I asked him how people are supposed to come of age if they don't have conflict and he told me he came of age without conflict and was perfectly fine with his boring life. "Great," I said, "but that doesn't mean people are clamoring to read a boring book about boring people who lead a boring life written by a boring writer. You know why? It's boring." [His evaluation of me, I recall clearly, said I was unprofessional and immature.]

So, personally, I'm a little stunted. I agree with that. I'm likely suffering from Munchhausen By Peter Pan Proxy Syndrome or some such thing. Professionally -- and by professionally I mean in my writing, not whatever this is here, which is highly immature, obviously -- I'd like to think I'm somewhat more mature. And really, for the unsuspecting masses who buy my books, I'd like to think my novels and stories reflect a man of deep intellectual depth. The sort of guy who spends a lot of evenings sitting in a leather chair reading philosophy, watching The Bicycle Thief, listening to Brahms on the hi-fi. That what I am on the page is different from what I am in life (where I spend a lot of evenings playing Madden 07 on the PS2, watching Dog The Bounty Hunter and listening to Rick Ross on my iRiver) is part of my whole way of life: that the goal of my art is to reveal the art and conceal the artist.

I'd like to think that's what Ben Affleck and I have in common. We've both made some mistakes in life -- I never appeared in a video or movie with J. Lo (nor was I engaged to her), but I once wrote a travel guide to Las Vegas and dated a girl in college who later (and by later, I mean, concurrently) had sex with Ian Ziering-- but who we are in art doesn't have to reveal who we are in person. Usually, for me, the art is better than the man. For Ben, I gotta hope it's the converse. But, really, who cares how mature or smart Ben Affleck is? Apart from his loved ones, he might as well be Lamb Chop the sock puppet; his role in our lives is to entertain us. So you either like Gigli or you don't. Big fucking deal.

Ah, but that where a fucktard named Lesley Thomson of Austin, Texas comes into play. You see, Lesley spends a lot of time thinking about the maturity of Ben Affleck, analyzing his movie roles in order to suss out, you know, where he is. What he's about. What he values. If his shit is together. You see, Lesley seems to equate Ben Affleck's performances in movies with who he actually is. How mature he is, specifically:

I enjoyed Ben Affleck's performance as TV Superman George Reeves in Hollywoodland. He seems to have matured. How do you explain his transformation?

First, I have to wonder what the editorial lead time is for Parade. Hollywoodland came out September 8th, Parade comes out on Sundays, this being the 24th, but my sources have been known to get me the questions in the magazine several days in advance. Most of the stories in the magazine are evergreen, aside from those tied to particular media events, so, yeah, what are the odds Lesley saw the movie and immediately rushed home to fire off a letter to Walter? About equal to the odds that Lesley even exists. Second, Lesley, what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you getting too much estrogen in your meat? Austin is supposed to be the cool part of Texas. the part where fucktards are at a minimum and those hot roller derby chicks are at a premium. Austin is supposed to be the kind of town that lures people from California with the dream of lower housing costs but all the cultural excellence were used to. Charlie Sexton is from Austin and Charlie Sexton taught me that while the beat is so lonely, it's always lonely at the top, which, yeah, is a statement of truth and that makes Austin...well, it makes Austin the home of a guy who had a hit at 17 and now is what people like me associate with Austin. Lesley apparently didn't get the memo that people in Austin are supposed to be cool. With it. Anti-fucktard. Lesley apparently also missed the memo that noted actors are not, you know, their characters, particularly not their mature characters. Lesley, you fucktard, are you familiar with Robert Downey Jr.? He was praised for his nuanced and mature turn in Chaplin, which was directly followed by a stint avoiding shanks and anal rapes inside the penitentiary showers. I know, that's a severe comparison, Lesley, so let me simplify it for you: In movies, the actors aren't actually playing themselves. They're playing characters. So Leonard Nimoy isn't really exceedingly logical and he's probably not constantly in search of...Movies are make believe, Lesley. If you were an actress in a movie, Lesley, it would be unbelievable that you'd be this fucking stupid, so they'd probably give you better dialog, better logic, and, at worst, a fucking clue. A fucking clue, Lesley, that's what you need.

I'm sure Walter agrees with me:

Lesley, you fucking half-wit, he's playing a role!

Okay, he didn't say that. He said:

Affleck, 34, made stupid films like Gigli and let his relationship with Jennifer Lopez spin out of control into a tabloid joke. But he put his life back on track by marrying Jennifer Garner, having a baby and keeping a low profile. Ben just directed his first film, Gone, Baby, Gone, and is pondering a run for public office.

Nothing lower in profile than running for public office, Walter.

Comments

[Richard]

I'll never grow up! I'll never grow up!

(And neither should anyone else!)

[David Zarkin]

The new soap opera “Brothers and Sisters” Sundays at 9 pm CT Sunday is yet another bungled attempt by ABC/Disney to advance the wingnut agenda. Callisa Flockhart, an acquired taste from Allie McBeal fame, is the lead. She plays a Republican TV talking head who is about to dump her impossibly gorgeous boyfriend for a LA TV gig.
Apparently the Flockhart character had a three-year fallout with her mom played by former flying nun Sally Fields over the Iraq occupation. All is sweetness between them now, maybe. A gaggle of soap opera studs round out the rest of the cast.
ABC honchos take note: If you are going to have a wingnut character then let her spew out the Karl Rove talking points on the Iraq occupation, gays, Democrats and terrortists, abortion or at least write in a shower scene with Callista and Bill O’Reilly.
Then there is the gay issue. Once again the gay character is right out of Aberchrombie and Fitch but lacks a boyfriend. If CNN can show the former New Jersey governor kiss his boyfriend on the lips, then ABC can make a better effort with the gay character in this mess.
Even with the strong lead in from “Desperate Housewives”, it remains to be seen if this turkey will fly but we know that Sally Fields can so where’s the nun outfit?

[Danny Barer]

Typical Walter: The women in your life make or break you.

[Joshua James]

Don't grow up, just be Tod.

I could be mistaken, but I thought for sure Charlie Sexton was from the twin cities - you certain he's from Austin?

[Tanya]

Joshua,

"Charlie Sexton
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Charles Wayne Sexton (born August 11, 1968) is an American guitarist, singer and songwriter, best known as the guitarist for Bob Dylan's backing band from 1999 to 2002.

Sexton's mother was 16 years old when she gave birth to him in San Antonio, Texas. When he was four, he and his mother moved to Austin, where clubs like the Armadillo World Headquarters, the Soap Creek Saloon, and more notably the Split Rail and Antone's Blues Club exposed him to popular music."

Just google Charlie Sexton if you want more info. :)