When I came to Los Angeles in March 1994, I began hitting hard on women. I hooked up with a girl who'd been on my dorm floor in UCLA in 1988. It was the culmination of a six-year longing.
I got around but I was scared and lonely in the big city.
I dated on-and-off this classy good beautiful Gentile women ten years older than me. I took her to temple a few times and to the movies. She wouldn't sleep with me.
One Sunday afternoon, I took her to Legends of the Fall. I cried through the last half of the movie -- after the beautiful young mother died. I don't think any movie has moved me so much. It indicates how lost and lonely I was. I was still snivelling an hour after the end of the movie. The movie touched on some of my core issues.
I never did sleep with the woman.
Tears are not an effective way of seducing women.
In January of 2004, I went to see Big Fish with a woman I had dated on and off. I loved the movie and cried at the end. She was not moved by the movie. She wouldn't sleep with me that night.
It was the last time we went out.
I saw Legends of the Fall on video. It was only my second viewing. I barely cried.
This week, I rented Big Fish. I watched a bit Thursday over lunch on my TV screen. Then I watched the last 40 minutes over lunch today. I interrupted it to take a long phone call. I ate my lunch. But when the movie culminated, and I had put my salad aside, the tears streamed down my face. I was more moved than ever. The funeral scene dissolved me.
I think it helps to have a troubled relationship with your father to appreciate Big Fish.
Part of me aches to believe my father's stories are true.
