no smoking, please.

In November of 2004, Pixar released The Incredibles and I had a baby named Dash. Because the lead kid in the movie was also called Dash, everyone assumed that my Dash was named after the animated Dash. He was not. He was named after Dashiell Hammett, writer of The Maltese Falcon and The Thin Man, and lover of Lillian Hellman, the playwright. Because Peter and I are both writers, we always knew our kid would have a literary name and we spent the first year of Dash’s life being total snobs about it.

When someone would, inevitably, ask if Dash was named after the character in the movie, we would get haughty and tell them, “No, he was named after the writer.” Why Peter and I decided that being named after a Tubercular and STD-ridden alcoholic, who died alone and penniless after an illicit 30-year affair with Lillian, was more fitting for a baby than being named after a smart and heroic little boy who helps save the world, is proof of how truly obnoxious writers can be when left unchecked.

I am thinking about this because I haven’t had any internet access this week. I don't want to assign blame so I am going to assume that the internet isn't working because of Mercury going into retrograde, even though the lady at AT&T suggested that it probably had more to do with "someone" not knowing how to pay bills on time. Whatever. Bottom line is I couldn't use the computer for anything but watching DVD's with my kid. And that means Cars.

Even though Dash was born just a couple of weeks after The Incredibles was released and even though he shares the name with the movie Dash, Cars is his favorite and he loves Mater, the tow truck. When you have a kid, you are forced to repeatedly watch what they want to watch so, like Malcolm MacDowell in A Clockwork Orange, I sit, eyes pried open, and watch whatever Dash wants to watch and it can be hell.

I am always happiest when he chooses Pixar cause they really have their act together over there and the movies are terrific. I know every line in Cars and laugh in the same places and it is always Mater, the dim-witted but loyal friend to everyone in Radiator Springs, that makes me laugh the most. He is the moral and comedic center of the film and I love that damn tow truck. Dash has all the cars from the movie and I often step on them while cleaning and when I do, I swear my butt off. Unless I step on Mater. Then, I say, "Oh, sorry Mater, " and put him back in the basket.

Mater was, for the most part, created by Joe Ranft, who was the Head of Story at Pixar and co-directed Cars, as well as, basically coming up with the best parts of Toy Story and every other movie Pixar made until his untimely death, five years ago this week. I think about him every time I go to my parent's farm because he died on Highway 1 about five miles away and we pass the spot every time we're coming or going. He was 45.

I never met him but I know someone who worked with him at Pixar and he told me that he once saw Joe at a theme park. “He was sitting on a bench, sketching as he was waiting for his kids and their friends to get off a ride. He saw us walking up and immediately stood up to greet us and say hello. Keep in mind that he had no reason to know who I was or that I even worked in the same company. Our worlds did not intersect, we just happened to cross paths from time to time. Still, he always wanted to know how you were and what you were up to and would ask about it the next time he saw you. No one ever left Joe without a laugh and a smile,” he said. “If you want to know what he was like, watch Cars. He WAS Mater. Just the nicest guy you have ever met.”

While Dash and I watched the movie, I thought a lot about Joe and Gavin and all of the people I know who have died young and accidentally and tragically. I promise that I am not going to turn The Early Girl into a "death" blog, but it was depressing and I excused myself, a lot, to go outside for a cigarette. Until last night.

In the garden of the new house, I sat and looked at the moon and puffed away and remembered a quote that Lillian Hellman once said of her relationship with Dashiell Hammett, “We ruined so much and repaired so little.”

Joe Ranft did the opposite. He fixed kids, and their parents, with stories that entertained and educated. Normally, the computer is something I try to steer Dash away from, and we don't even own a TV, but the Pixar movies are a shared experience. They encourage bonding and we have Joe to thank for his huge part in that.

If it’s at all possible for me to pick up even a corner of the banner he dropped when he died, I will always do my very best but I have to be here in order to write, and love up my kid, and watch endless viewings of Pixar movies, and laugh. Everything I want to achieve or experience requires my being alive and so, sitting in the garden last night, I decided that the next challenge will be to quit smoking. It's the only way I can think of to honor those that would give anything to still be here so, here I go. I will be a non-smoker. Hopefully, I will not be a fat, non-smoker but fat and alive is better than, well, the alternative.

As my friend who knew Joe put it so beautifully, "The idea that a beat up, hayseed tow truck was really an idiot savant when it came to driving backwards could only come from someone that had unbridled optimism for human potential." Thank you, Joe, for believing in all of us. I will take that idea with me as, with increasing anxiety but a strong desire, I face the challenge.

Oh, and I am really, really glad that I'm shooting guns tomorrow.

Someone on youtube posted a beautiful tribute to Joe. Enjoy: