Looking back with Lot's Wife

May 19, 1999 For a few hours, I watched a magpie last February in the pine tree out my bedroom window. How, you may wonder, do I have that kind of time? I’m almost embarrassed to admit to myself that I do—bird watching, day-dreaming, not working, time. I like it—I like watching birds for one thing, not that I know anything about them. This February magpie was huge—confident, fat, sassy. His autonomy astounded me. Hopping from branch to branch he systematically checked the bark for hibernating bugs. I envied his self-absorption which seemed innocent. But then, watching, I remembered bird squabbles I’d seen and I think he must have been pretty mean if another magpie had gotten in his way; mutuality in this corner of the bird kingdom being less an act of generosity than collective opportunism. My daughter just read that, and reminded me of, the undying love and life long mating habits of Canadian geese. But I’m already a Canadian goose with a mate and goslings. I admire the magpie. You d

May 5, 1999 Lately I’ve been watching MTV with my sixteen-year-old son in an obvious effort to bond in the most simple, non-active way possible. And I think I’m jealous of Cher: how can this be? Cher is a fifty-two year old woman; she used to be Sonny and Cher and now she’s a teen-market star with a successful music video and she can wear those little halter tops that only look really good if you’re 10 or a car hop. Clearly the only halter top anyone’s going to offer me will have a bit and reins. Of course, I’m jealous. I’d redo “young” in a heartbeat if I could keep everything I know now. I don’t envy Cher any of her failed personal life because nobody envies the personal life of a rock star, but I do envy her the energy it takes to continue to pretend to be a virgin. It’s her job, the thing she does instead of going to the office everyday. In the video, she’s wearing this kind of Aztec looking headdress and she’s in some sort of disco with all these nubile young things jumping aroun