I felt hopeful about 2020: I would turn 40 and celebrate with a solo trip to Japan. As the ball dropped in Times Square, I closed my eyes and wished my family and friends felicity and good health. Neither of these wishes came true, and all Jap(l)ans have been cancelled. However, I did realize that 2020 is like Jerry O’Connell’s character in Scream 2: you hate that he publicly serenades Neve Campbell with a Partridge Family song, and you are pissed that he’s the murderer (not a spoiler – the movie was released 23 years ago). In other words, 2020 is a ruthless serial killer. The irony is not lost on me; the killer is masked in the movie.
If Covid has taught us anything (besides wearing your mask in public, washing your hands, and staying six feet apart), it is to live life deliberately (thanks, Thoreau). So, I’m returning to writing. I may be the only one to ever read my words, and that’s okay.
You might be wondering about the name of the website. My Poppy, a brilliant pianist and a silly jokester, would play “La Vie en Rose” and then ask, “What’s ‘La Vie en Rose’ backwards?” The punchline: Rose Levine. My favorite band – The National – has a website address that is not their name, so I followed suit and did so in tribute to Poppy.