Sunday, September 10, 2017

Graham Norton, The New Antidepressant

Here is a glimpse into my secret mommy life: no one is home...my husband's on the road working, my daughter's away on an overnight school field trip and I am home totally alone for an extended period of time (overnight from yesterday).

The color snapshot looks like this: I really need a shower, awful hair pulled back into a ponytail sort of, if you can call a clump of hair the length of your thumb a ponytail. The hair-tie is only working because of the grease. Soft teal plushy bathrobe under which is an old lady house dress given to me by an old lady, sorry Mom, the truth hurts. This is the ugliest garment I own, but the most comfortable to sleep in when it's hot. Comfort trumps sex appeal at this stage of my life. 

[Can I just say that every time I want to use the word trump I pause and have the visual image of "you know who"—self-censorship almost always stops me most days from using the word, but not today.]

I have just spent the last two hours watching 2017 movie trailers. I love movie trailers. There are so many fun, great movies I want to see and frankly, I will never have the time to do so. Watching trailers is fabulous because it's the essence of the movie. I hated to watch trailers before I had a kid because I didn't like to see all the greatest parts of the movie jammed together. I loved the surprise of going to a movie and watching it unfold. Sound effect: record scratch...who has time for that once you become a mother? NEVER. GOING. TO. HAPPEN. Now if I watch a movie I better love it for the two-plus-hour investment I am making.

But with movie trailers, it's like I just watched A Lot of movies. Do the math: on average, 3-minute clips for 120 minutes. I have laughed and cried repeatedly, an emotional roller coaster. There's maybe one movie I'll see in it's complete form from that gorgefest and my selection will probably change once or twice before I actually get to Redbox in the next few months.

So more of my unedited life that I would not share on Facebook in picture form. My desk is in the middle of the dining area of my new house. Tiny scraps of paper are strewn about on its surface, a little pile of business cards, clean underpants (so I could find them), and a stack of unread Hollywood Reporters all surround my laptop. Boxes are everywhere around my oasis of semi-controlled chaos that is my work space. And small piles of dirty clothes are about the floor. 

Newsflash: I have sh*#!t to do. My kid is coming home this evening and I will be gone next week. I probably have about two hours more before the whirling dervish in me comes out to get ready for the trip and the next week—all while trying to ignore the boxes screaming to be unpacked. Oh yeah, and I have a writing deadline... Ha, ha, ha, I laugh at deadlines and laundry (even if I do have to go to the laundromat—oh, how I pine for my wonderful washing machine...)

As I write, I am enjoying a raspberry sorbet popsicle, my second for breakfast. This is my second course: my first course was chocolate chips. Soon I will be feasting on some popcorn with brewers yeast. All food of the gods and a throw back to how I ate in college. Once in crazy moment when my husband wasn't home, I said to my daughter let's eat for dinner what I used eat when I was in college—essentially the meal noted above (if you can call it a meal). After the ice cream and a handful of popcorn, she looked at me and said "Mom, I need some real food." I must be doing something right, thank God.

So my real reason for writing today and what stopped the movie trailer viewing fest was an ongoing urgent need to write a love letter to Graham Norton. Rare is it to have this kind of alone time and really my secret pleasure is mini clips from the Graham Norton show on the BBC. I usually watch them late at night on my iPhone with my noise-cancelling headphones. But after this I'll watch a few on my laptop. Oh, happy day.

I do a lot of reading about the science of happiness and compassion. I want to be a neuroscientist when I grow up. Probably not going to happen, but there is a Ph.D program at Stanford called Modern Thought and Literature, which is interdisciplinaryI would like to be in that program and do research connected to The Center for Compassion and Altruism Research and Education (CCARE) also at Stanford. I will be applying for this program when my girl is a senior in high school, right after I finish my miniseries, documentary and feature film. Maybe just in my dreams, but I am persistent. 

Anyway Graham Norton is a part of my personal self-care and health program—all connected to happiness. 

It all started when I was watching clips of Keanu Reeves' interviews for research—Graham eye-roll here—and in the YouTube feed was a little clip "on the couch" with Whoopi Goldberg and Keanu Reeves.

[A quick aside: I really am working on a documentary that I want Mr. Reeves to narrate. So here's a quick synopsis. 

Looking At Clouds, Listening To Wind
Finding Our Compassion In Nature 

We are at a confluence of events right now—a tipping point. Science, particularly neuroscience has measured what is known through faith and intuitively through the spiritual world: humanity is most happy, compassionate and loving when we are deeply connected and rooted in the natural world. Journalist and author Richard Louv documents a global phenomenon, which he calls “nature deficit disorder” in his seminal work Last Child In The Woods. In this age of rapidly expanding technology use, children are not playing outside and this is creating a disconnect for the future care of our planet and potentially impacting the compassion we need to sustain our ourselves. Through interviews with Louv, parents, educators, children and the world’s spiritual leaders: Amma, the Dalai Lama, and the Pope, filmmaker VanWalleghan illustrates the truth of Louv’s work.]

Mr. Reeves if you read this—my documentary (in all earnestness and sincerity)—could be a life changer and will win an Oscar once I get it made, especially if you're the narrator. Please call my people...

And with a sardonic smile lest I take myself too seriously, we return back to the writing at hand. I watched Keanu squirming as Whoopi revealed the truth of aging and I belly laughed. Clearly, it was a mortifying moment for Mr. Reeves, but after more little clips I realized that he's not the only celebrity to be mortified on Graham Norton's couch. 

And there began my love for Mr. Norton. I would watch these little clips at night after a long hard day. You know the kind: I hate my husband, I think I have damaged my kid to the point that she's going to need a lot of therapy when she leaves home; and my favorite late night angst-ridden thoughts: "What is the meaning of it all?" But then I watch a few or a lot of these little Graham Norton clips and off to sleep I go with a smile on my face. No, Mr. Norton I have not subscribed, but I am getting close.

Humor is one of the key ingredients to maintaining happiness. A quick digression...my pet fly is bothering me (not enough window screens in my new place.) I have the flyswatter and I just gave him a near miss swat, so close his life flashed before his compound eye. Now he's knows to stay away because I am writing.

Mr. Norton you are impacting mental health one viewer at a time. I have watched your show in various forms: "The Best Of" clips, the whole show, whole interviews, and the individual mini clips. The mini clips are my favorite. The cumulative total of watching 10 or even 15 clips equals nearly 30 minutes of belly laughing. Belly laughing leads to a good night's sleep and usually good dreams and waking up with a smile on one's face. Better than sex? Probably not, but the investment of time for sex is much greater when your tired partner is already snoring in bed.

In my reading the studies show that a great deal of happiness is predicated on the individual's attitude and attitude is a personal choice. Read a bit of Pollyanna and this notion rings true from the pages of that old novel. This is the bedtime reading for my daughter right now. I highly recommend it.

Also if you consider that recent neuroscience studies show our brain synapses are impacted by complaining, which may rewire one's brain toward negativity, which could in turn change one's personal reality... Whoa. WHOA. WHHHOOOAAA. Graham Norton we need you.

Belly laughing is impacting mental health and physical health. I am going to suggest that if one is feeling happy this can also help bring us outdoors. I wonder if there isn't a chicken and egg conundrum about getting outside. It can be hard to make oneself go outside if one is tiredso I say humor promotes a deeper rest, which in turn can promote wanting to get outside, and being outside promotes compassion. 

Graham do you see my point? You are an antidepressant. Please for one of your show's read this study. I do seem to be getting familiar: no "Mr." anymore. 

So the secret to your success—and I have watched a few comedian-hosted shows (I don't want to name names because someday I might be famous after I have won my first Oscar)—is this: sarcasm mixed with awe and reverence and a dash of incredulousness thrown in. What is most funny is that guests can't take themselves too seriously—sitting on your couch with other interesting and famous people—because either your eye-rolling, giddy laugh or just highlighting the ridiculous as it relates to celebrity keeps everything real. Just about every famous person was not famous at one point in their life. I think you help folks remember that, which is very revealing and can be very uncomfortable for someone famous. Celebrities have armor and for the briefest moments we mere mortals see behind the armor and realize that the edited life is just that "edited." 

So keep up the good work. And if ever you want to host me on your couch I would like to be seated next to Meryl Streep, Harvey Keitel, Winona Ryder, and Keanu Reeves. All folks I would like to direct in my future filmmaking career. 

I know your people will call my people. I'll be patiently waiting by the phone while doing that mothering thing I do. But first: I need to take a shower, eat some real food (I have a popcorn headache) and pick up the dirty laundry from off the floor before my daughter gets home.

But secretly before all that I'm going to watch a few more of your mini clips. Thank you Mr. Norton for my future belly laughs.