When life brought me lemons, cherry pits and other rotten fruits thrown at me full force my brilliant and hilarious friend Anna Lefler gave me a wonderful recipe for a smoothie to make use of the unwanted and bitter fruit and she made some suggestions that turned my tears into tee-hees, my rage into rip snorts and my cries into comedy. I asked the woman who Igor describes as “very vize” if she would share her vize suggestions with you and she generously agreed. Dear readers, I give you Dr. Anna “No-my-last-name-is-not-Freud” Lefler:
Sometimes life comes in on us like a deflating bouncy-house.
It happens to everyone at some time or another, even to that aggressively perky cashier at the market. (You know the one.) We thrash, we flail, we lose a sneaker…and still it collapses with its oppressive dreariness and funky smell, leaving us to stagger around the yard, disoriented, squashed juice box in our pocket, looking in vain for the goodie bag we know we set down in a safe place…but where?
Whether it’s the result of a huge thing…or a thousand little things…there are times when we are driven by life’s recurring compost cycle to turn for solace to a source outside ourselves. A source whose healing powers run wide and deep. A source that stands ready to dispense comfort to all in need.
No, I’m not talking about the all-night pharmacy.
I am speaking of the movie-rental store.
Now, I’m no expert in this field, but (at the very generous suggestion of La Belette Rouge) I’m happy to share with you my movie pharmacopeia, personally compiled over decades of crap jobs, dumbass dates, bad perms, fractious family, tantruming transmissions, harrowing holidays, rampant rejection, bounced checks, broken engagements, crushed dreams, gut-wrenching goodbyes and the sobering realization (last week) that I’m probably not going to be an astronaut after all.
I hope you find my recommendations helpful or, at the very least, that they give you a couple hours of pleasant chilling-out time before shooting up your local post office.
Situation: Your narcolepsy has ended yet another career dream (current dream: obstetrician, previous dream: bullfighter) and you find yourself reminiscing about a simpler time when job requirements were, in a word, not stringent.
Prescription: “Fast Times at Ridgemont High”
Side Effects: “I know you. You used to work at All American Burger!”
Situation: Your boyfriend the corporate tool neither understands nor respects your need as an artiste to compose and perform avant-garde minuets for bass accordion. You long for a sympathetic peer group.
Prescription: “Napoleon Dynamite”
Side Effects: “My lips hurt real bad!”
Situation: Your new cubicle-mate at work is a complete kneebiter and if you have to listen to one more phone conversation in which she brags about her husband’s “way-wicked” clog-dancing skills, you’re headed for mental-health leave, if not assault charges.
Prescription: “All of Me”
Side Effects: At least it’s just you looking back when you stand in front of the bathroom mirror. (Right?)
Situation: Not only is the secret admirer who left the bucket of crawdads on your porch NOT the cute banker who just moved in three doors down, but you suspect he’s actually the guy from the house on the corner who’s wearing striped knee socks and riding in circles in front of your house on his tandem bike.
Prescription: “Ace Ventura Pet Detective”
Side Effects: “Mind if I ass you a few questions?”
Situation: Too polite to decline, you allow the apprentice hairdresser at your salon to do your highlights and cut and now everyone’s asking you if you’re that dude from Flock of Seagulls.
Prescription: “School of Rock”
Side Effects: There are few bummers that can withstand the restorative powers of a face-melting guitar solo.
Situation: You’re feeling desperate and alienated because no one around you understands that life is really a hilarious movie playing in your head, but you’re the only one in on the joke.
Prescription: “Monty Python and the Holy Grail”
Side Effects: Welcome home.
Situation: After the day you’ve had, you swear on all that is holy that if those children interrupt “Dancing with the Stars” with their inane bickering one more time, so help you, you’ll LOSE IT.
Prescription: Bruce Lee’s “Enter the Dragon”
Side Effects: Oooo-wha-HAAAAA!!!
Situation: The IRS called. They made a slight error in calculating your taxes over the past decade. Once you give them that sweet RV in your driveway, though, you guys will be all square. But is life even worth living without your street-legal love bungalow?
Prescription: “Wayne’s World”
Side Effects: “Live in the now.”
Situation: You’re not sure what happened last night, but you woke up this morning with maple syrup in your hair, your foot in the dog’s water dish and a process server pounding on your door. (Turns out it’s not your apartment or your dog, but – yep – still your process server.)
Prescription: “Stripes”
Side Effect: With your lifestyle, it’s best to be well versed in the ways of the Aunt Jemima treatment, the razzle-dazzle and today’s urban assault vehicle.
Situation: Extreme despair, anxiety, free-floating triple-strength ennui, emotional mayhem, righteous unrest, bad news, bad dreams, bad karma, you name it. In other words, in case of emergency, break glass and pull out the hard stuff.
Prescription: “Blazing Saddles” “The 40 Year Old Virgin” and “Undercover Brother” in supervised rapid succession.
Side Effects: When patient begins to exhibit signs that he or she can give at least momentary consideration to the exquisite absurdity of life, the road to recovery is in sight. Administer a fresh bag of cheese doodles and repeat treatment as needed.
Thank you, Dr. Anna! I can tell you that in my moment of “extreme despair, anxiety, free-floating triple-strength ennui, emotional mayhem, righteous unrest, bad news, bad dreams, and bad karma” I was helped immensely by your prescription of Blazing Saddles, Undercover Brother and Rushmore. I feel better still having added your prescription to my Netflix list.
So, what movies do you watch when you need some cinema therapy? Mine are: French Kiss, The Philadelphia Story, and Pride and Prejudice. Please tell me yours and please be sure to visit Anna’s blog as she will do your funny bone good and, as they say, laughter is the best medicine. Well, Igor doesn’t say that; Igor says the best medicine is dredging up painful truths that your unconscious has worked desperately to repress. I suppose all roads lead to Rome, some roads are just funnier than others.
