FINE WHINE FROM CHEKHOV’S DOG

“Why are we worn out?

“Why do we, who start out so passionate, brave, noble, believing, become totally bankrupt by the age of thirty or thirty-five?

“Why is it that one is extinguished by consumption, another puts a bullet in his head, a third seeks oblivion in vodka, cards, a fourth, in order to stifle fear and anguish, cynically tramples underfoot the portrait of his pure, beautiful youth?

“Why is it that, once fallen, we do not try to rise, and, having lost one thing, we do not seek another?

“Why?”

—Anton Chekhov

 

Thank you Anton Chekhov, for your examples of living life to the fullest with the fatal coughing, the bullets, the booze, and your self-deprecating downer fucking attitude.

And thank you for asking the question Nancy Kerrigan-style.

Why?

Who doesn’t ask the same question the same way most days.

Here’s a little more about Tony Chekov from wiki:

 

Chekhov began writing stories to earn money, but as his artistic ambition grew, he made formal innovations that influenced the evolution of the modern short story.

He made no apologies for the difficulties this posed to readers, insisting that the role of an artist was to ask questions, not to answer them.

 

Fine whine? Ask why, why, why, and you’re an artist.

Ask a question, a piercing inquiry, and if someone somewhere answers it in their head, boom, artist work complete.

Considered one of his finest works, The Lady with the Dog, is a pretty good answer to why.

I just read reviews and skimmed it, so I’m an expert with this call: Middle-age burnout.

‘We’ are so exhausted from middle-age burnout.

I’m a spry seventy looking back and calling bullshit on A-C.

He was bored with his wife and sick of his kids, not a youth sports coach in a loyal-love marriage.

Boredom was his excuse, but that’s not something allowed in suburban family life. Right?

As a forty year old ladies man, Gurov recognized the signs of potential amour.

 

Him: Oolala.

Her: Oui.

 

So Bored, So What? Fine Whine

Instead of living as a philandering drunk, a suicidal spitter, and rejecting the notion that you had a passably good life before the boredom, wife, and kids forced you to hook-up with women who find solace in a depressed man who ought to be in therapy, not their pants, be better than Chekhov’s hero, Gurov.

Forty year old women bore him? What’s that tell you?

This guy likes women who haven’t seen enough naked men to know he looks funky.

I’m no expert, but I went to high school in the era of common showers after P.E. and after team practices, followed by a tour of Army duty with common showers in boot camp.

In other words, a civilized time of hygiene called the early 1970’s.

Believe me when I say people are funky.

These are funky fuckers who get married, have kids, then get their funk on.

My advice: Get your timing right.

Make your wife a better person, not a subspecies for some player to pluck and poke like a new tray of doughnuts fresh out of the fryer.

 

I think Anton would have liked Up In The Air.

An idea from a young, new co-worker (Anna Kendrick) would put an end to the constant travel of corporate downsizer Ryan Bingham (George Clooney), so he takes her on a tour to demonstrate the importance of face-to-face meetings with those they must fire.

While mentoring his colleague, he arranges hookups with another frequent-flier (Vera Farmiga), and his developing feelings for the woman prompt him to see others in a new light.

 

Here’s a ‘New light,’ in Chekhov style fine whine:

 

And they both realized that the end was still far, far away, and that the hardest, the most complicated part was only just beginning.

 

Now go ahead and get up if you’re down; go ahead and find something new and share it with your sweetheart.

Do that often enough and you’ll stop hearing, “I’ve heard all your stories.”

 

Cheers