The daughter of Jett Wells and Caitlin Bennett arrived just after 11 am New Jersey time —11.17.21. Saint Barnabas Medical Center in Livingston. 8 lbs., 2 ounces. Labor began last night around 9 pm — 14 hours start to finish. Epidural administered around 3 am. Everyone is fine, all is well, morning has broken, all choked up.
Speaking as a leather-jacketed samurai poet clear light rumblehogger, I’m not that down with being called “grandpa”. It’s not what anyone would call a difficult hurdle, but the “g” word always makes me think of The Band’s “RockingChair.”
From this end it feels pretty great to be living a Hollywood Elsewhere-type life — no “barbecues and ball games” or any of that onerous, sword-of-Damocles stuff but…
It is part of my burden, yes, to have to face the daily threat of slimy, slithering reptiles and hissing dragons** who radiate seething hostility at every turn, but as Pike Bishop once said, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
No sublime morning-coffee company with a Porizkova or an Antropova, true, and no THC gummies or slurps of lime-and-guave-flavored beer but I gots my George Gershwin rhythm…physically fit, mentally sharp, no bald spots or jiggling neck wattles, Italian-made black loafers, Zara T-shirts, etc.
And Lordy Lordy the profound gift of a three-year-old granddaughter who constantly radiates joyful discovery and intrigue….
Not to mention daily postings drawn from my inner well…a life of constant discipline, 4K Blurays and travel and film festivals, Cialis and Prevagen and choice Indian restaurants in London and Paris and even Westport, cinematic intrigue and occasional satori transcendence, Bhagavad Gita meditations, a bottomless chest of fond Henry Miller-ish memories and occasional secretions of Socratic wisdom…spiritual nourishment savored in dribs and drabs.
I could go on and on but it feels like a huge relief not having to please or placate or charm or dazzle a high-maintenance woman of Porizkova’scharacter***…no offense.
Sri Krishna, Henry Miller, Pike Bishop, Socrates or Marcus Aurelius (either or both), George Gershwin, Sutton Wells…quite the cocktail.
** Life forms who seem to actually get off on spewing alien acid blood.
During the drive down from Connecticut HE was hit with an engine problem. The engine was coughing, struggling. I found a friendly West Orange garage. Everything’s fine now, but the total damage is/was $570.00.
This is admittedly a day late and a dollar short, but yesterday Brian Wilson celebrated his 81st birthday. On the very same day Sutton Wells, aged 19 months, was dancing in her bedroom to that Pet Sounds instrumental track (i.e., the second-to-last cut, just before “Caroline No”). Will someone please send this to Brian already? Seriously.
Attorney Friend to HE: “Do you spend time with your family?” HE to attorney friend: “Sure, I do.” Attorney Friend to HE: “Good. Because a man who doesn’t spend time with his family can never be a real man.”
Today marks Sutton Wells‘ first full spin around the sun — born 11.17.21. Hollywood Elsewhere will be attending her birthday party on Saturday afternoon.
Paul Schrader’s TheMasterGardener, the final chapter in his “lonely haunted man with a certain history writing his thoughts in longhand while sitting at a clutter-free desk” trilogy, is a “Southernfable,” as Schrader put it earlier today.
It’s actually a redemption-seeking love story. Redemption by way of acceptance, submission, renunciation, devotion and violence.
The only truly difficult part for me was Joel Edgerton’s “Hitleryouth” haircut — absolutely no one looks good with one of these godawfulthings. They smell of fear and repression and a form of cowardice and self-loathing.
I’ll leave it there and tap out an HE review sometime tomorrow as it’s 8:34 pm and I’m standing in line for a 9 pm viewing of TriangleofSadness (which I saw in Cannes last May) at Avery Fisher Hall.
MasterGardener ‘s Joel Edgerton, Sigourney Weaver, Paul Schrader, NYFF honcho Dennis Lim.Sutton Wells (Scorpio — born on 11.17.21)
Sutton Wells is today celebrating her month-old life — cupcakes, candles, party hats. Born on 11.17.21. Now that she’s looked around and lived a little, she has some perspective to draw upon.
11:30 am: Hollywood Elsewhere will finally shake hands with Sutton Wells early this afternoon. I’ll be leaving Manhattan within the hour, taking the Holland Tunnel to New Jersey and over to West Orange. Staying the weekend, etc.
Ebenezer Scrooge to daughter-in-law: “Can you forgive a pig-headed old fool for having no eyes to see with nor ears to hear with all these years?”
John Huston‘s Noah Cross to Belinda Palmer‘s Katherine Mulwray in Chinatown: “Katherine, I’m…I’m…I’m your grandfather.”
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