The Reason That Heat Vision Is Not Lit

The headline from my THR editor was a straightforward pun: “John Wick Gets Lit.” Because you light a wick, get it? Like a candle? But my brain went elsewhere when I first learned it, to an entirely different place altogether:

There were reasons why this wasn’t a smart idea, not least of which being I felt self-conscious for just outright swiping Olivia Jaimes’ original “Sluggo Is Lit” image/joke. (It’s also the wrong shape/size for the newsletter format, but, I mean, I could have worked with that.) The actual reason it wasn’t used, though, is something far more straightforward: My THR editor didn’t know the “Sluggo Is Lit” meme. And then, when I was appalled and went to a third party, they didn’t know it, either. So, we ended up dropping it and trying something more traditional, but I still think it’s funny.

Try Again Later

It’s been a day.

Really, it’s been a week. Maybe more than a week? As I write this, it’s Friday afternoon and there’s been a lot happening over the past week or so, even though I couldn’t tell you what any of it has been. I’m at the point in life, I think, where things as simple as “I didn’t sleep well last night,” or, “I didn’t get that work done when I thought and it’s playing on my mind” can completely wreck my day, which feels somewhat embarrassing to admit. It’s not that I feel old, per se, as much as I just feel curiously tired in unexpected ways, not least of which emotionally and mentally.

A friend — hi Jeff! — has joked that I’m basically at the age where my body should start to fall apart. Unfortunately, as a result, I’ve spent years preparing for that mentally, noting every single twinge and ache and thinking to myself, this is it, it’s finally starting. This mental and emotional fragility is more unexpected, however, and makes me think that maybe I’ve been paying attention to the wrong stuff all along.

(I worry that describing it as fragility makes it sound more dramatic, more deep, than it actually is; really, I’m just very tired.)

I’m reminded, I realize, of my mother, who built her life around a very strict regime of scheduling that included going to bed early each night; somewhere between nine and ten o’clock, depending on whether or not there was something she was watching on TV. As a kid, I was always surprised that she’d seem to go to bed even when she wasn’t sleepy, or didn’t seem so, but know that I’m older, I feel as if I’ve realized her magic trick: She was doing that to avoid sleepiness and exhaustion. Clearly, I need to adopt this plan.

Maybe I’m old, but not too old to stop learning from my parents. On the other hand, perhaps I’m just turning into my mother. There are worse fates.