Author Archive

The Sopranos’ finale’s ending…

Okay, I’m not afraid to admit it: I don’t get it.

I mean, was I the only one who saw the scene cut to black and silence, followed by silent credits? WTF?

All right, maybe there was no good way to end that series after all these years, but an abrupt cut to black silence for no reason? After all the buildup in that scene? Was it meant to evoke the idea that Tony and his kin would live under a sword of Damocles all the days of their lives? That the saga would march onward, and this is simply where we got cut loose?

Or was it just Milch Chase and his team in the Avid suite tossing up their hands in defeat and saying, “We give up. Just cut it there and call it avant-garde so we can leave and get dinner.”

I can’t quite put my finger on it…but I feel ripped-off.

(Edited to reflect Keith’s astute note.)

I bet I’d beat the odds anyway

42%

If you ask me, I think I lost the most points for my inability to run long distances due to being an out-of-shape writer and for living in a densely populated urban area. The rest of my answers seemed fairly logical. Then again, maybe no one's odds of surving a zombie apocalypse are that great….

A hard couple of days, months, years, lives

Sometimes things happen in life that, if you saw them in a movie, you'd throw your refreshments at the screen.

Several years ago, a friend of mine from high school died of a heroin overdose, and his funeral, by coincidence, fell on my 30th birthday. At the time — this was in the days before 40 was the new 30 and charcoal was the new black — it seemed so cliché that on a day which in popular culture was meant to symbolize the end of youth and the irreversible plunge into adulthood, I was burying a boyhood friend. Had I written such a scene from my imagination, I would have thrown it away as utterly unbelievable.

But there it was, happening to me.

A few months ago, David Honigsberg, a dear friend of mine who was also my rabbi and the co-officiant of my wedding to Kara just a few years earlier, died of a sudden massive heart attack. He was only 48 years old and had appeared to be the very picture of enviable health. His absence continues to feel, by turns, unreal to me and then like a deep wound. But by horrid chance, his funeral fell on the day of my wife's birthday (thankfully not her 30th), so that gruesome coincidence is now something that we have in common.

Again, if I was scripting my life, I would have uncapped a red pen at that point and gone to work.

Yesterday, in the early hours of the morning while much of New York City slumbered, a sweet and talented young woman named Sandra Jimenez passed away of cancer. Only a few hours earlier, my friend and hermano Randy had married her in a private bedside service, a final testament to the heroic love and devotion he showed as he supported her months-long fight against this swift and tragic illness. His faith in her, his love for her, and his hope for a remission never faltered. If you want to know what courage looks like, this is it.

Would it be believable if you saw it in a movie? Who gives a shit? That's not the point. It's life. That's the point.

Names and other details

No one has asked how this blog got its name, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

For the past 20-odd years, a song that has been a sort of anthem for my life — a theme song, if you will — has been “The Analog Kid” by Rush. So, as I grappled to conceive a name for this digital repository of ideas from the dusty corners of my brain, I came back to my theme song.

Damn, that's not much of a story. Oh, well. They can't all be masterpieces.

What am I doing?

I don't know why I have a blog, to be honest. It often seems that I don't have enough time to write as it is. So why would I introduce a new distraction to my life?

Because I'm an idiot.

It will probably be months before I post again. Someday I might have time to do this on a semi-regular basis; today is not that day. Tomorrow's not looking so good, either. And I wouldn't get my hopes up for any days in the near-future.

OK, time to go back to work. Aren't you thrilled you stopped by?

~ David Mack