Then Again - Diane Keaton [46]
8. Duke made a Nespresso for Jimmy, the car washer, yesterday. By the way, he’s back from the hospital. You’ll never believe this; he told me hiccups were the only symptom he had before his gallbladder was removed. Anyway, he wants a sponsorship for his bowling team. What do you think? I say yes. Most important, Duke was proud of himself for, number 1, making the coffee and, number 2, appearing to be generous.
9. Starting Tuesday, I drive Dexter to swim practice at 4:45 a.m. This means I can sit in the backseat of my mobile office and work on the rewrite of the memoir. I’m way behind. What to do? At least I’ll get in a full two hours without interruptions. Starbucks opens at 5. I’ll need it.
As for Dorothy
I am thankful for the beautiful, round full moon last night.
I am thankful for the weekend Jack & I just had in Ojai.
I am thankful for the good feelings I have all at once for no reason.
I am thankful for the friends who respond to me.
I am thankful for my work at Hunter’s Bookstore.
I am thankful for my new independence with money.
I am thankful for my more orderly, clear mind.
I take pride in being me, Dorothy D. Hall.
Loving Jack
Number 1. Seeing him is beautiful.
Number 2. We both realize how important we are to one another.
Number 3. The other evening we looked at one another, held hands, and communicated our feelings of love and need.
7
DI-ANNIE HALL
Wake-Up Call, 2009
Getting up at three-thirty a.m. to catch a flight to L.A. after spending six weeks in New York shooting Morning Glory doesn’t help the vertigo. As I spin my way to the Nespresso machine, waiting for the crystals in my ear to readjust, I think of that first shot on the first day. One minute I was on a mat in a fat suit, playing with a four-hundred-pound sumo wrestler; the next I was on a gurney, in a neck brace, looking up at the machine taking pictures of my brain. Like Humpty Dumpty, I took a great fall.
I think of the nurses at Columbia Presbyterian checking every three hours to see if I was alive. I think of the fall that took Natasha Richardson’s life and know I’m lucky. I think of Duke, who said, “Mom, did you lose your memories?” I think of the people I worked with. There was Roger Michel, our bear of a director; beautiful Rachel McAdams; and legendary Harrison Ford. I think of the $65 million he made in 2008, beating out Johnny Depp for the title of number-one box-office winner; that’s pretty good for a sixty-five-year-old man. That’s a lot of money. I think about money and worry like Dad used to. I worry about Emmie, our seven-year-old shit-eating dog. I worry about Randy’s liver, and Robin’s daughter, Riley, with her new baby, Dylan. I worry about Duke’s lack of boundaries. I worry about Dorrie’s antiques business and Dexter’s teen years. But mainly I worry about how long I can keep it all going. Which, of course, makes me think of the Unique Lives Lecture Series Tour, where I found myself on the road in Minneapolis, Des Moines, Boston, Toronto, Montreal, and Denver, in Carrie Underwood’s new tour bus. What about all those women, my contemporaries, my sisters, in all those auditoriums listening to Diane Keaton—that’s me—give a Unique Lecture on the subject of being a woman over sixty? When Stephanie Heaton (not to be confused with Keaton) and I spent the night in Carrie’s bus, we pulled over to grab a Starbucks at the World’s Largest Truck Stop, and I thought, Okay, I’m no Harrison Ford, but I’m making my way, and it’s never boring.
As I wheel my suitcase into the hallway, I start to think about what’s waiting for me back in L.A. Oh, God, school again. Already? Duke in third grade, Dex in eighth. Not possible. I think about the restoration of the Wright house I bought before the recession hit. I think about the complications of selling Mom and Dad’s two oceanfront homes after the seawall collapsed down the block. I think about Dorrie, who doesn’t want to sell;