I Feel Bad About My Neck

This month I read "I Feel Bad About My Neck" by Nora Ephron.  I chose it on a recommendation that it is funny (and it is!) and also for nostalgic reasons, as this woman wrote a couple of my favorite movies (Sleepless in Seattle and When Harry Met Sally).  I wanted something light and easy (and it is!), but I also found this collection of essays to be poignant and thought-provoking.  After all, the theme that ties each piece together is centered on aging, which we are all doing each day of course, but also something I'm not at the point of noticing quite as much as a woman in her sixties.

What first struck me about "I Feel Bad About My Neck" was Ms. Ephron's essay about purses.  It is a difficult time to be a woman who doesn't care about purses, who doesn't carry one most of the time because it feels like too much work, who finds it baffling that there are whole stores devoted to selling handbags and clutches and apparently we are supposed to be excited at the prospect of a new purse and also to compete with other women in order to have the latest or cutest one.  So when I read, "This is for women who hate their purses, who are bad at purses, who understand that their purses are reflections of negligent housekeeping, hopeless disorganization, a chronic inability to throw anything away, and an ongoing failure to handle the obligations of a demanding and difficult accessory," I felt at once understood and validated.  And her concluding advice to purchase an inexpensive, horribly ugly bag that can never go out of style because it has never been in style sounds like the next logical step for my own life.

The book continues on in this funny, self-deprecating style, as the author recounts a life that has seen highs and lows and marriage and divorce and motherhood and empty nest syndrome, all of which has contributed to the wisdom and sagacity which she shares with us.  The book concludes with the essay "Considering the Alternative", which is the response the author is confronted with when she complains about the aging process.  In light of the fact that Ms. Ephron has since passed from this world, that she is now experiencing the alternative, these words prove to be especially poignant:
  "Do you splurge or do you hoard?  Do you live every day as if it's your last, or do you save your money on the chance you'll live twenty more years?  Is life too short, or is it going to be too long?  Do you work as hard as you can, or do you slow down to smell the roses?  And where do carbohydrates fit into this?  Are we really going to have to spend our last years avoiding bread, especially now that great in America is so unbelievably delicious?  And what about chocolate?"

If the purpose of essays and memoir is to pass along knowledge gained and provide insight on the meaning of life, I think Ms. Ephron has hit both spot on in this collection.  While our lives are vastly different, each page revealed a woman after my own heart, whose delight in the pleasures of food and friends match my own.  And since she passed shortly after writing these essays, it is my sincere hope that she got her fill of delicious bread and indulged in some extra chocolate.  I think I'll celebrate her life by doing both tonight.