The jet was one of the most advanced in the world (although the French insisted that the Dassault Falcon was even better), but regardless of how much money he had, he couldn't change the clocks in Europe. It was now 3.43 a.m. in Los Angeles, and he was just beginning to feel really tired. He had been awake all night, going from one party to the next, answering the same two idiotic questions that began every conversation:
‘How was your flight?’
To which Javits always responded with a question:
‘Why?’
People didn't know quite what to say and so they smiled awkwardly and moved on to the next question on the list:
‘Are you staying here long?’
And Javits would again ask: ‘Why?’ Then he would pretend he had to answer his mobile phone, make his excuses and move on with his two inseparable besuited friends in tow.
He met no one interesting. But then who would a man who has almost everything money can buy find interesting? He had tried to change his friends and meet people who had nothing to do with the world of cinema: philosophers, writers, jugglers, executives of food-manufacturing companies. At first, it all went swimmingly, until the inevitable question: ‘Would you like to read a script I've written?’ Or the second most inevitable question: ‘I have a friend who has always wanted to be an actor/actress. Would you mind meeting him/her?’
Yes, he would. He had other things to do in life apart from work. He used to fly once a month to Alaska, go into the first bar, get drunk, eat pizza, wander about in the wild and talk to the people who lived in the small towns up there. He worked out for two hours a day at his private gym, but the doctors had warned him he could still end up with heart problems. He didn't care that much about being physically fit; what he really wanted was to off-load a little of the constant tension that seemed to weigh on him every second of the day, to do some meditation and heal the wounds to his soul. When he was in the country, he always asked the people he chanced to meet what ‘normal life’ was like, because he had forgotten. The answers varied, and he gradually came to realise that, even when he was surrounded by other people, he was absolutely alone in the world.
He decided to draw up a list of what constituted normal attitudes and behaviour, based on what people did rather than on what they said.
Javits glances around. There's a man in dark glasses drinking a fruit juice. He seems oblivious to his surroundings and is staring out to sea as if he were somewhere far from there. He's smartly dressed and good-looking, with greying hair. He was one of the first to arrive and must know who Javits is, and yet he's made no effort to come and introduce himself. It was brave of him to sit there alone like that. Being alone in Cannes is anathema; it means that no one is interested in you, that you're unimportant or don't know anyone.
He envies that man, who probably doesn't fit the list of ‘normal’ behaviour he always keeps in his pocket. He seems so independent and free; if Javits weren't feeling so tired, he would really like to talk to him.
He turns to one of his ‘friends’.
‘What does being normal mean?’
‘Is your conscience troubling you? Have you done something you shouldn't have?’
Javits has clearly asked the wrong question of the wrong man. His companion will perhaps assume that he's regretting what he's made of his life and that he wants to start anew, but that isn't it at all. And if he does have regrets, it's too late to begin again; he knows the rules of the game.
‘I asked you what being normal means?’
One of the ‘friends’ looks bewildered. The other keeps surveying the tent, watching people come and go.
‘Living like someone who lacks all ambition,’ the first ‘friend’ says at last.
Javits takes his list out of his pocket and puts it on the table.
‘I always have this with me and I add to it all the time.’
The ‘friend’ says that he can't look at it now because he has to keep alert to what's going on around them. The other man, though, more relaxed and confident, reads the list out loud:
1. Normal is anything that makes us forget who we are and what we want; that way we can work in order to produce, reproduce and earn money.
2. Setting out rules for waging war (the Geneva Convention).
3. Spending years studying at university only to find at the end of it all that you're unemployable.
4. Working from nine till five every day at something that gives you no pleasure at all just so that, after thirty years, you can retire.
5. Retiring and discovering that you no longer have enough energy to enjoy life and dying a few years later of sheer boredom.
6. Using botox.
7. Believing that power is much more important than money and that money is much more important than happiness.
8. Making fun of anyone who seeks happiness rather than money and accusing them of ‘lacking ambition’.
9. Comparing objects like cars, houses, clothes, and defining life according to those comparisons, instead of trying to discover the real reason for being alive.
10. Never talking to strangers. Saying nasty things about the neighbours.
11. Believing that your parents are always right.
12. Getting married, having children and staying together long after all love has died, saying that it's for the good of the children (who are, apparently, deaf to the constant rows).
12a. Criticising anyone who tries to be different.
14. Waking up each morning to an hysterical alarm clock on the bedside table.
14. Believing absolutely everything that appears in print.
16. Wearing a scrap of coloured cloth around your neck, even though it serves no useful purpose, but which answers to the name of ‘tie’.
17. Never asking a direct question, even though the other person can guess what it is you want to know.
18. Keeping a smile on your lips even when you're on the verge of tears. Feeling sorry for those who show their feelings.
19. Believing that art is either worth a fortune or worth nothing at all.
20. Despising anything that was easy to achieve because if no sacrifice was involved, it obviously isn't worth having.
21. Following fashion trends, however ridiculous or uncomfortable.
22. Believing that all famous people have tons of money saved up.
23. Investing a lot of time and money in external beauty and caring little about inner beauty.
24. Using every means possible to show that, although you're just an ordinary human being, you're far above other mortals.
25. Never looking anyone in the eye when you're travelling on public transport, in case it's interpreted as a sign you're trying to get off with them.
26. Standing facing the door in a lift and pretending you're the only person there, regardless of how crowded it is.
27. Never laughing too loudly in a restaurant however good the joke.
28. In the northern hemisphere, always dressing according to the season: bare arms in Spring (however cold it is) and woollen jacket in Autumn (however hot it is).