Monday, February 13, 2017

A tale of two Gordons

TOMBSTONE (1993) and THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN (1960 and 2016) are the only western/cowboy movies I really like.

I recently rented 'The Magnificent Seven'  (2016) and 'Nocturnal Animals'.

Warning: If you rent Nocturnal Animals, you're going to NOT want to be eating anything for about 15 minutes into the film. I made myself some salmon and eggs and had to fast forward past the opening creds before I could eat. I appreciate the Hollywood political message of body image, but, it's just, THAT went on way too long.

THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN remake was brilliant. Loved it. I own a copy of the original 1960, and will be buying a copy of the remake.

I happily stayed in bed and watched movies all day, all night. Made food at home, finished the remaining half bottle of Cab I opened the night before, spilling some on the comforters I had just washed days ago, naturally, and talked with Mr Gordon on the phone for 40 minutes. He called me from the studios as his night was coming to an end.

Mr Gordon invited me to spend Saturday with him at the Huntington. I was weary he might cancel again when he later said he mailed me a Valentine. --As if to say we might not see each other in a few days as planned so I mailed a valentine to you, rather than giving it to you personally.

I'm terrible with Valentines Day. I don't care for this holiday much. Never have. Just a corporate holiday like Christmas. All these women marched up and down streets and freeways loud and proud about their feminine rights and independence but come Valentines Day, there better be some flowers, jewelry, and dinner reservations somewhere expensive or these same (independent) women will freak the fuck out. Makes me laugh.

I fantasize Steve McQueen and all men who starred in THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN (both versions) as being gentlemen who would stand and tip their hats like gentlemen at the ladies marching past them roaring chants about feminine rights and independent (um. we now have by the way) and then among each other remark, "It's good these ladies march down the street for their cause. Gets them out of the house, and the little ladies get some exercise at the same time."

Because unlike so many women today, I like my men to be men. Men like Longmire, and The Magnificent Seven. It's what attracts women to these films. Men who won't allow a woman to disrespect them and castrate them for no reason other than being men.

Be that as it may...

Mr Gordon said he mailed me a Valentine, and so I ran out and got him a Valentine to give to him personally on Saturday, or mail forward if he cancels on me again.

The card I got Mr Gordon reads: "For my Valentine. I always knew life was full of possibilities, but I never thought meeting a man like you might be one of them. I'm so glad you happened to me."

To which I signed: "Thank you for being a part of my weird little world. Happy Valentines Day."

SATURDAY

I finally saw the amazing Huntington botanical gardens. I first blog about it here

Here's a link to the Huntington website http://www.huntington.org

In my next blog immediately following this one will be some photos. Check them out!

I couldn't remember if Mr Gordon said 9am or 9:30am. He's VERY punctual. He likes to be at his destination right when the place opens whereas I'm more, "I'll get there when I get there." I set my alarm for 6:30am. Giving myself 2 1/2 hours to wake up and be ready.

Mr Gordon showed up in front of my apartment building at 9:20am. The Huntington, is a 40 minute drive to San Marino (Pasadena) from my place.

During the drive to the Huntington, I gave Mr Gordon the Valentine I got for him and loaned him a movie he wanted to borrow. It's my favorite movie of all time SENSE AND SENSIBILITY with Emma Thompson (1995). Mr Gordon said because it's my favorite movie he wanted to watch it. When I got into Mr Gordon's Truck, Mr Gordon shoved both the movie and my card into his glove box.

When we arrived at the Huntington, It was dark, cloudy with a little bit of rain, but I love nature this way. Everything that's green, vibrant with color, rich and plush, just grabs you a hundred times harder in the dark wet backdrop. It's why most artists use black mat and frames for their drawings.

All the plants and trees at the Huntington gardens are absolutely giant, alien looking, many of which I have never seen before, or at the very least not seen grown to such an enormous size. At times it felt like I was walking through a haunted necromantic Dr Suess story book. Just beautiful.

Mr Gordon and I walked for 6 1/2 hours (until the place closed) through garden after garden in the gentle rain. It was just so much fun.

And...

I was getting to know my new friend better.

He's a nonstop chatty fellow. A few times I had silence him in order to take some video.

In other aspects, I once knew this girl, Kate, very much like Mr Gordon, in that, he's very militant about being on time and everything being in its place, being right where he left it. I think in Mr Gordon's case it's because of his long time occupation in the TV and movie industry. Everything and everyone has to be in their place at this specific time in order for this specific scene to work PERFECTLY otherwise it's just a huge waste of his time, no exception.

Regarding Kate, she was just crazy.

Mr Gordon wants to be somewhere right when the place opens. He has everything mapped out. Everything is perfectly timed. He even knows exactly where in the Huntington gardens you can get coffee, or so he thought. After two hours of walking Mr Gordon said he needed coffee and knew exactly where a coffee stand was. When we arrived at the stand we found they sold every beverage you can possibly think of BUT coffee. The nice employees said all we had to do was walk to building directly in front of us and that's where they moved the coffee stand. --But this didn't sit well with Mr Gordon.

"Why would you move my coffee stand?! I always got my coffee RIGHT HERE. And now I can get anything I want to drink here BUT coffee?! How stupid!" Mr Gordon yelled.

I have a thing about people yelling at hospitality employees, yelling in general. It's an automatic red flag. An automatic no. First of all, you don't need to yell. You don't need fight. Second, it's not an employee's fault for the decisions of management or owners.

"We're under new management. They moved the coffee stands inside (that) building, sir." The nice employee patiently explained while pointing to the building in front of us.

But Mr Gordon wouldn't leave it alone. He just kept yelling about how stupid it was moving HIS coffee stand indoors. --I had to pull Mr Gordon away from the employee. I apologized to the employee and thanked her for the information.

Once we were inside the building with the coffee stands, Mr Gordon came back to his senses. No one's perfect but if Mr Gordon yells at people on a regular basis because things aren't EXACTLY where he wants them to be, I could see a serious dating relationship with this man stressing me into an early heart attack. And if there's one thing I don't need in my life it's more stress. I stress just fine all by my lonesome. I don't need help. I'm trying to alleviate stress from my every day life as is. --I just want my life to be simple.

Another observation...

Mr Gordon will stay some place until it closes. Regarding the Huntington, there's just so much to see, so many gardens and museums, it's impossible to see everything in one day, but...

In my general dating practices, a date lasts about 2 to 3 hours. I don't even hang out with my friends that long in one stretch. My friends and I do our thing, and then we leave. We watch a hockey game, we leave. They go home. I go home. We go out to eat, and then we leave. My friends and I do what we came to do and then LEAVE. But again, Mr Gordon's 64 years old. I still can't believe it. He looks so young. Still, as unfair as it is to compare people, when my dad was 64 years old he was playing golf, learning computer programming, taking cordon bleu culinary classes, learning about wine, he was on the go all the time. My dad and I are a lot alike in that the only time we truly relax is when we're by ourselves ALONE. Otherwise, we have things to do.

"We need to spend time together and get know one another better." Mr Gordon says sensing my edginess to get home.

I agree. Just not 8 hours a day or (to me) it's merely going to feel like another job. Mr Gordon wanted to take me out to dinner after the Huntington, nice offer but I was tired. --My calves are still sore after walking the gardens for 6 1/2 hours and I run, about 12 miles before I even start to get winded.

We're going to talk about these things, his berating people, being militant, etc, Mr Gordon and I, but not today. Pick your battles. I need to give this more thought. Regarding Mr Gordon and I, so far the good far outweigh the bad. It's only been two dates. How many straight men am I going to meet in my lifetime that love art, museums, the outdoors, gardening, horticulture, camping, animal and wildlife conservation...

So far it's just Mr Gordon.

And I realize in part it's my location. If I moved to (say) Washington state, or Oregon, like I've been pondering,  I'd probably meet a lot of earthy people, problem is they might be a little too granola for my taste. I'm not going to quit shaving or stop wearing mascara any time soon. So no, I'm going to continue seeing where things might go with Mr Gordon.

When I got home Mr Gordon's valentine he mailed me was waiting in my mailbox. It was cute, adorable... perfect.

While walking through the cactus garden with Mr Gordon I asked him the dreaded question I was avoiding to ask.

"My wife died last July. Almost 7 months ago. Dementia. Alzheimers." Mr Gordon said.

I couldn't believe it.

The words "Alzheimers" and "dementia" were still in my ears when Mr Gordon then said, "I bought her paint brushes. The doctors said to keep her mind busy and active for as long as I could. But she never used the paint brushes. If I gave them to you would you paint something for me?"

I don't paint anymore. Not since high school.

"No interest?" Mr Gordon asks.

I'm interest. I'm just terrible at it.

"You could take classes." Mr Gordon suggests.

I could. I've taken classes. I've taken many classes for many things. Some things I'm good at. Some things I'm great at. And some things were meant other people. Like painting.

"That too bad." Mr Gordon said. "Talented girl like you. You have a good eye. Maybe one day you'll change your mind."

Maybe.

"My wife died in July. You gave me your number in October." Mr Gordon reflected.

Well technically I gave you my number to give your golfing friend who you were going to try setting me up with, but he didn't call me. --And another thing, what about all those times you were visiting me at work over the past few years?

"My wife was ill for a very long time." Mr Gordon said quietly.

I see.

"I never cheated on her." Mr Gordon quickly says.

Ok.

"I never cheated on her. No sex in over two years. I never cheated on her. Not once." Mr Gordon says very proudly, matter of factly.

Ok.

"It's important you know that." Mr Gordon says.

Ok.

It's just, you were stopping by my work kind of regularly.

"I like looking at you." Mr Gordon explained. "I was a caregiver for so long, a man needs to feel like a man even if it's just looking at a pretty girl fantasizing fifty ways of ripping her clothes off, and a hundred ways more jumping on top of her. But I never cheated on my wife."

Ok.

"Any movies out you feel like seeing?" Mr Gordon asks awkwardly changing the subject.

SPLIT. I'd like to see SPLIT. It's an M. Night Shyamalam film. I like his movies.

"Ok." Mr Gordon says. "Let me take you to see that then."

Ok.

"Ok. It's a date." Mr Gordon says.

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