My name is Greg Morelli. And I’m a Compare-Aholic.
A friend I met in college downplays his station in life by saying he’s not a Billionaire, instead he’s just a Thousandaire. Another friend I met in the world of advertising agencies is a successful creative director, but feels bad about struggling to make the leap from creative director to film director. Before his divorce, my brother regrets not having children. He says he’s kidding. But the fact is, he’s kidding in the square.
You might wonder why people are constantly measuring themselves against other people. This morning, for the first time ever, the answer was actually in the newspaper.
USA Today reported, “…nearly 40% of women today have never been married.” It begs the question: how is this news? It begs another question: is it healthy to make those of us who are unmarried feel crappy about being happily unmarried?
The data was released by The National Center For Health Statistics. Instead of calculating how many people are unmarried, if the statistics are really about health, they might want to calculate how many married people are happily married, or listen to each other, or push each other to reach for their dreams, or dance, or worry about eating the wrong things on a daily basis and turning into an unfuckable fat-fuck.
One silly reason I have a hard time with marriage, right now, is at my wedding I wouldn’t want to invite my gay friends. It would essentially be saying, “Hey, forget you’re gay. Be happy for me, even though you can’t do what I can do. Even though your love isn’t as good as my love. Come to my wedding. Come watch me declare my love. Come watch me celebrate my love. And eat cake.”
I don’t get it. And I’ll never get it. Most of my friends are married to women I’d never come-on to, even if they were still single. They’re not for me. I’m not for them. I don’t take it personally. They certainly don’t take it personally. On both sides, it’s a relief. I’m happy for them.
Even if I wasn’t happy for them, I would do what adults do: shut my mouth, check “Yes” on the RSVP, remember to mail the RSVP, book a flight, book a room, put on a suit, put too much gel in my JewFro, kiss the bride, give shit to the groom, pretend I actually liked The God Awful Band, and dance.
Why does anyone care who someone else is attracted to? Why does anyone care how much money someone else makes? Are we supposed to have kids to be parents? Or are we supposed to have kids so our parents can be grandparents? Why does having an Oscar for “Titanic” make someone better than the other 7.002 billion people who are currently telling their crummy stories on Planet Earth?
Most important of all, how stupid are these questions?!!
I’m writing this from Robert McKee’s “Story Seminar.” I came here to push myself to be a better writer. How much better can I get? Have I been writing for 27-years? Or has it been “an elaborate typing exercise?” That’s what McKee calls lazy writing. He’s not wrong. It’s certainly worth considering. But is it worth traveling to Los Angeles? Is it worth all the money? Especially when I’m not a Thousandaire, instead I’m just a Hundredaire. Most important of all, is it going to help me catch-up to Woody Allen?
Probably not. Definitely not.
Listen, I love Woody Allen, minus the whole thing about having sex with his adult adopted daughter. But when it gets right down to it…it was none of my damn business. Was it? You have to wonder why it was ever called news in the first place.