Goodbye Joel

I woke up this morning well before my alarm and started thinking about Joel, whose memorial is in LA today and I’m 99% not going. I have a commitment to something important up here and Mike has to hit the road back to work and I haven’t even seen Joel in years and I don’t know anyone in his life now. And he certainly won’t know the difference. But part of me wants to go, for closure, so the 1% may win out, but I hope I can find another way to honor him and find closure. I could go see his movie, “Ingrid Goes West,” when it gets released wide later this month. The way we terminated our relationship was I took off and moved away and kind of told him after the fact. At the time it didn’t seem as extreme as it does now. From my perspective ours was always a very temporary thing, two people in a lot of pain meeting each other and making a point of having a good time. He was recently divorced, and recently career-changed. I was coming off a big life-shifting heartbreak and having a general identity crisis. Joel knew what he wanted his next act to be. I didn’t, so I merged into his world for a while and he let me.

He had a little tiny place in Silverlake when Silverlake was still sketchy and we’d write together and brainstorm all day and then go out all night. We’d take meetings with actors and various production folks, trying to put something together. We’d do a lot of re-writing and tinkering. We’d hold readings. We partied together, wrote together, and admired each other endlessly. And then one day I basically said to myself, “Self, what are you doing here?” And I took off to go meet Mike and build this life I’m living now, though I didn’t know it at the time. At the time I was just running from all the many many frog lives I’d been kissing.

Joel was not a frog, but he wasn’t my prince either. He was a good man and a talented artist. He was a sweetheart and a powerhouse. I’m so glad he found a soulmate, his wife Jana, to love him and to be loved by him. I’m so glad he continued to move forward in the work he adored. I’m glad he had the life he had and I’m glad I got to know him for a bit. I’m sorry his ride was so shockingly short. I hope he’s at peace wherever he is. Thanks, Joel. I remember you.