That ringing sound

Why yes, I do believe in magic and love. I do.

A couple of nights ago I was sitting in bed, reading a book, it was late, after 11, which may or may not be late to you, for me it’s kind of late. My cellphone rang. Caller ID suggested it was a New York City number, but no one I knew.

I could not figure out if I wanted to answer, because sometimes when you answer the phone late at night from a location where you have once lived it is often bad news. Someone has died, or is about to. In fact, at this point, late night calls from unknown phone numbers in places I once called home are almost always tragic. I stared at the screen with a slight bit of hessitation.

A few years ago I was making a documentary on the fracturing American economy. I had interviewed world class economists, drunk with power derivatives traders, out of work auto workers, people barely hanging on and at one point an 80 year old woman who was about to lose her New York City apartment to foreclosure. She was a marvel. My friend, who is a photojournalist, ran into her at an anti-Wall Street protest and had connected us. I interviewed her at her soon to be foreclosed upon apartment, which was about 3 blocks away from the World Trade Center complex and had a beautiful view of the Statue of Liberty.

As part of that project I made a series of short films on the various people I had interviewed. I made one of the 80 year old woman and posted it on YouTube. Then my phone was ringing late at night a couple of days ago.

“Is this Matt?”

“It is.”

“You have a short film on me on YouTube. I need you to pull it off immediately.”

It seems that this beautiful woman is being named to a United Nations group of some sort and in a Google search of her name, my film had come up, questions were asked and it just seemed easier to have the film removed. So, while we were still on the phone a couple of keystrokes and the film disappeared.

That is of course, not the magic part.

First, since I am officially an orphan, I am always in search of a mother figure and this woman, this dignified, beautiful and brilliant woman was so sweet and so lovely, I felt so at home with her and we were joking and having such a great time, I wanted to just snuggle up in my bed and have her read me a story.

“Matt, tell me again how we met?”

“Seriously, you don’t remember?” She is 82, after all.

“Well, did we sleep together?”

“Oh we did so much more than sleep together.”

“That I know did not happen.”

“A friend at a protest got your number and we talked.”

“That’s right. You’re getting married, right?”

“I am, but how did you know about that?”

“I am registered with the Free Church, I could marry you in New York if you like.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course.”

“Would it be legal?”

“As far as the state of New York is concerned.”

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

We talked some more, her late husband was a lot of things, most importantly a pain in the ass to Joseph McCarthy, when you are 82 your late husband could certainly have been a pain the ass to McCarthy. We made plans to have a drink when I am in New York in a couple of weeks and probably make plans for the wedding.

Magic happens, you just have to answer the phone.