Love, As Always, Pete

There is an unconfirmed rumor running around that Mother has once again skipped the country, jaunting off to play with her buddies in Italy.  Beyond that, I Know Nothing. 

Week one of riding the Great Silver Worm (aka Bay Area Rapid Transit, aka BART) to and from work every day and already, I’m caught up on one periodical.  To wit:  Entertainment Weekly.  Now, before you say anything, I want it understood that I never volunteered to take EW.  In fact, when I was offered an opportunity to get a subscription, I tossed said offer into the waste basket, along with the “You May Already Have Won…!” and Don’t-You-Want-to-go-$10,000-in-Debt-Through-the-Mail? Missives.  It was never my idea to get this particular magazine. 

It went like this:  Quite a few years ago, I received a request to join the American Film Institute, a non-profit organization that supports the arts, provides scholarships to budding, young George Lucases and Steven Spielbergs in-the-making, works to save classic films that would otherwise disintegrate and each year, presents its prestigious “Lifetime Achievement Award” to some film-maker who’s lived long enough to warrant such notice.  No doubt, they had originally gotten my name from the Ashland people. 

I figured, what the heck, what can it hurt?  It only costs $25 per year, I’m supporting the arts, I get a package of “freebies” I can’t possibly use (like attending classes in Southern California) and a nifty Membership Card with Charlton Heston’s signature on it.  And a “complimentary” subscription to American Film magazine.  And, for a while, I managed to read American Film each month, at least the parts that were interesting.  And I always got notice ahead of time as to who would be receiving the “prestigious” Lifetime Achievement Award.  At one point, they even let the members vote on who the recipient should be.  And every few months or so, I’d get a “personalized” letter from Charlton Heston that read, “Dear ‘A’:  Another important project.  Please send money.  Thanks, Chuck.” 

But, then, time started to get away from me and the American Film’s started piling up.  Long about the time that I was a year-and-a-half behind on my reading, the magazine went belly up.  Seems I wasn’t the only one not reading it.  Well, AFI went to work immediately to find a suitable substitute for its members.  And proudly announced that it was replacing the rest of the year’s subscription with Entertainment Weekly! 

“What!” I cried.  “I can’t stay caught up with a monthly and now you want me to take on a weekly?  Are you guys crazy?” 

Of course, EW isn’t the only magazine that graces my over-loaded dining table (that’s where all the mail lands, to be sorted through on Sunday night, during the commercial breaks in 60 Minutes).  A few years ago, I got a plea from the American Museum of Natural History.  Wouldn’t I please contribute to the education of America?  For just a pittance, I could help to support the Museum (open all year, except Thanksgiving and Christmas, in New York, of course), get discounts at the Museum Restaurant (also in New York), yet another MasterCard®, preferred rates at various hotels, 30% off on dinosaur T-shirts, etc., etc., etc. 

I thought, what the heck, what can it hurt?  But I didn’t see the fine print, which read, We’re going to send you a magazine every month.  Magazines with dolphins and birds and cute bugs on the covers.  With terribly edifying articles inside if you’ll just get off your rusty-dusty and read them.  Well, now that I have two extra hours of reading time each day, I may just do that.

I let Life and 1,001 Home Ideas lapse long ago.  But I still get Discover and, by some miracle, I’m only one month behind on it.  Possibly because, as soon as I finish one, "Miranda’s" husband snaps it up.