Skip to main content

Better Things

 Months ago, Anne Lamott wrote a memorable attack on Mother's Day; one of Lamott's observations was that the day randomly puts a mom on a pedestal, "when, in fact, I was mostly raised by my neighborhood's gay men."


I think of this in relation to "Better Things"; it's not that Mom has disappeared, but Dad clearly has, and a great deal of parenting work gets shifted to Sam Fox's "gay husband," Rich. 

I didn't realize, early on, that Rich would have a major role. I recall that he dates a very young man at one point, and he has his heart broken, and he fights with Sam because Frankie's disappearance requires too much "emotional energy." In happier moments, Sam urges Rich to "go back to writing." Then, when the show really confronts the issue of the missing dad, Rich assumes a lead-character status.

One wonderful scene has the actual dad forgetting Rich's name; Rich smiles, with rage, and says, "I just want you to know that I take your daughters to recitals, to rehearsals, to concerts, to auditions, to curriculum night. Over and over, people approach me and say, Your children are so poised! And I just have to say to you: It is a privilege, every minute, every second, that I have with Frankie, Max, and Duke." Sam's ex later teases Rich about Rich's unrealized novel-writing plan. Calmly, Rich says, "I have a job, in case you weren't aware. And I plan to self-publish my book. What are you doing with *your* life?"

Rich isn't perfect. We see this in "Family Meeting"--when a barber reveals that Rich often speaks of his "tall, willowy, blond" wife. (I love this, and I do this, too. I feel, if you enquire about my "wife" in a public setting, it's not really my duty to educate you. I will absolutely speak about my "wife," if it makes the social event easier for me. Your assumptions are not my problem.)

Rich also has a habit of returning to a toxic ex--and, though he is heroic in so many ways, he can't hear reason when Sam tries to guide him through his love life. This makes me enjoy and admire Rich--a human, and not a Marvel crusader--in new ways, week after week.

I hadn't known we would get a Rich-centric episode--but that's what "507: Family Meeting" seems to be. I loved when Rich took Duke's vaping tool and said, "Use this again. I'll fucking kill you." I also loved Rich's graciousness regarding Jerza's new name: "Thank you for telling me, and I like your choice."

Let's hope this actor gets new work after the show shuts down.

P.S. It’s nice to regard Rich as a kind of tribute to James Marshall and Tomie dePaola--childless gay men who raised America. They continue to raise America. They do their work when we notice them. AND they do their work when we take them for granted. 
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...
2 comments
Read more

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...
Post a Comment
Read more