Not Quite All Is Lost

Yesterday I saw a movie from last year; All Is Lost. To sum it up as simply as possible; it’s about a guy who sails his small boat out into the ocean and finds trouble. The only actor in the movie is Robert Redford. Robert Redford is something like 75 years old. About forty years ago my mother had a crush on him. She has freely admitted this enamoration a couple of times over the years. Forty years ago my mother was 20 and Redford was in his mid-30s. It makes me think that there could be something hereditary about my appreciation of older guys.

Anyway, in the movie All Is Lost, Redford says nary a word of dialogue. I think his one brief line is when he speaks over the microphone of a malfunctioning radio. Through all the things that go wrong on his voyage, and the few things that go right, he doesn’t utter a syllable. I found this strangely unrealistic. When I am alone I am constantly talking to myself. In fact, come summer time, I either have to forgo the self-chatter, or make sure the windows are closed because anyone hearing me would think I was crazy.

When something goes wrong I will often insult myself or call myself some name. Many times the name comes from my childhood. I could use “birdbrain” or “dumbbell”. Sometimes some long-forgotten derisive label will pop out of my mouth and I’ll get a chuckle just hearing it again.

When things go right I will sometimes compliment myself, give myself positive reinforcement. If it’s a day when I am really into talking to myself, I’ll compliment myself for almost anything. About an hour ago I gave myself a manicure. I did a nice job on my nails and I cheerfully told myself as much, right out loud. I could have given some lessons to the Redford character. Not only could it have helped him psychologically, but who knows, it might have made for a better movie.