Liars and Saints

 My neighbor put me on a group text, except that she has me confused with another "Dan"; she thinks I'm the Dan married to "Carolyn." I could have nipped this in the bud, but I didn't, and now it's too late to fess up. Now, I know about the missing dog, the desire for a toddler playdate, the softball game that conflicts with the desired playdate, the upcoming PTA fundraiser. Once, I spoke up under the mask of "Other Dan" (about the missing dog)--because silence seemed inhumane. The newest chain, about the PTA fundraiser, seems particularly invasive. Something buzzes in your pocket--you don't even "activate" the device--and suddenly you have eight or nine messages, and most of them are transparent falsehoods. ("Sounds wonderful! We have soccer lessons, unfortunately.") My favorite falsehood is this: "I will have to check my calendar!" ....Why should fifteen people have to hear about this fictional plan to ( at s...

 The other day, I went to see a show on Broadway that was not for children. The show's website said, "This is not for children." I paid a fair amount for my ticket, and I also paid for sitter coverage; this was not a small expenditure. When seated, I discovered that a tiny child was directly in front of me. She bounced around in her seat, "conducted" alongside the orchestra, and asked many questions of her mother, who happily engaged her in chit chat.  Note: Everything is on a spectrum. This kid wasn't whining, wasn't asking to leave the theater; it was clear that most of her conversation was growing out of a genuine sense of curiosity, regarding the plot. She had trouble following the plot--because it was complicated, it continued to unspool itself in a second, and even a third, hour, and it was not designed for children. I did "shush" once during Act One, and the mom seemed to realize that she'd made at least one substantial error (i.e. b...

  The cliche about writing is that you should write for yourself; write the story that you would want to read. But so many writers struggle with this. So much material seems committee-tested, pandering. Then there is Larry David. Here is an extraordinary recent scene from "Curb Your Enthusiasm." A group of friends has opted to dine at a Chinese restaurant. One friend discloses that he is dating a powerful executive at Disney. Now things become surprising--and somehow inevitable. The bawdiest friend discloses that he would like to fuck Tinkerbell. "She's so sexy, she'd bop over...wink at me....I'd put her in my pocket....." (Art gets at the truth--and the Tinkerbell in Disney's "Peter Pan" is bizarrely, inappropriately sexy. How often is this discussed?) As if things can't get stranger, Larry David interrupts this discussion to observe a fish, in a decorative fish tank. The fish is clearly stuck to a filter. But the host doesn't want...

 In my daughter's swim class, you, the parent, are asked (commanded) to get in the pool. But the instructor is twelve years old, and she can't stand up to lazy parents. So one mom has simply refused to get in the pool--which means that the instructor has to work one-on-one with the kid in question, and the other kids are ignored.  Thus the rule-breaking mom is rewarded for breaking the rules. Because I'm immature, I do not address this matter with a direct, rational conversation; instead, I loudly narrate the outrageousness, to my husband, and just hope that the naughty mom might overhear me. My spouse is slightly more reasonable, so he did attempt to engage the twelve-year-old in a conversation. This poor kid. I could sense that she wanted to get back to YouTube. "A parent *is* meant to be in the pool," she said, "but only if the kid is a tadpole. Felicity's son has advanced beyond tadpole status, so Felicity can be on the bench." "So," sa...

 The other day, I went to a restaurant and listened as the waitress complained, in detail, about red meat. "It's bad for you, and it's bad for the planet."  This seemed so odd and unprofessional, because no one had asked for an opinion--and, also, red meat had a starring role on the menu. Later, the waitress took ages to present me with a check--which was fine, except that she lied about having been delayed by a needy colleague. This was blatant; I had observed her chatting at length with guests at another table (chatting about red meat?) ....It's not the delay; it's the lie that seems so strange to me. I often have nowhere to go with these feelings, so I'm glad that "Curb Your Enthusiasm" is back. I really think that Larry David writes to entertain himself. Recently, he built an entire script on the problem of "recovery"; if your fragile, obnoxious girlfriend can't handle emotional turmoil for six months, how do you manage? How do ...

 Do you know that application question that often pops up: Which fictional character do you relate to, and why? I tend to answer Toad , from "Frog and Toad," but really the answer is Larry David , from "Curb Your Enthusiasm." Last night, my family watched just ten minutes, and in that time: (1) Larry felt some misguided chivalry about seeing a female driver carry his bag, and the awkwardness led to an extremely inappropriate customer "complaint." (2) Larry tried to order anchovies at lunch, but canceled the wish because his friends were "food-shaming" the order. (3) Larry saw Dr. Josh Gad, who bragged about maybe (maybe) once having treated Harrison Ford, and who accidentally showed off his own ratty pair of underwear. (4) A dispute about a communal phone-charger led to espionage and a possible rupture between two friends. Here is my own week. A language specialist came to assess my son, but spent at least thirty minutes complaining to me that he...

In the most recent "Curb Your Enthusiasm," Larry has a problem. His ex-wife's sister wants to sell her house. But Larry is the one who purchased the house for the sister in the first place. A normal person might say, "There is a tremendous income gap here, and I'm happy for my struggling acquaintance to make some cash on the house sale." But Larry--being Larry--wants the money. And he isn't shy to talk about that want. He goes to confront his acquaintance--Becky--and she sobs and compels him to change her mind. Then, possibly as a "thank you," she sleeps with him. This leads to furor; the ex-wife, Cheryl, can't believe what Larry has done. Meanwhile, Larry asks not to have a dinner with a certain friend's significant other--and the way this is accomplished is through a fake story. Larry "can't have dinner with semi-strangers" because of a "bleeding rectum." The discomfort, the blood: It's ...