amusing grace

Instructions for your next day off. . .

Step 1:  Go to your local Wal-Mart store.

Step 2:  Find creepy fish section marked “Aquarium Supplies.”

Step 3:  Get high-school sophomore employee to painstakingly scoop out 10 or so tropical fishies into plastic baggie.

Step 4:  Proceed to layaway section of the store.

Step 5:  With a very straight face, inform customer service clerk that you’d like to put these fish on layaway.

Step 6:  Enjoy confused look on layaway clerk’s face.

Step 7:  Go home, but not before stopping at your local pond to release fishies into harsh, but natural habitat.

Step 8:  Sit down in your favorite recliner, drink a Mountain Dew, and reflect upon the day’s activities.

Step 9:  (Repeat step 8 as needed).

Carey's leftovers #4

Sometimes I like to do random good deeds -- good deeds that some people never think about doing.  Like sometimes I’ll go to sci-fi conventions and hand out the addresses of places where you can get a good haircut.

Sylvester Stallone and Jane Austen

(Continuing with my posts about movies. . .)

Well, it’s official.  I saw the previews the other day:  there’s gonna be a Rocky VI.  At this point, I’m going to skip all of the ageism jokes that could be inserted about Rocky coming out of retirement to fight again.  Jokes like, “Did you hear about Rocky VI?  The final fight is in front of the 4:30 supper crowd at Luby’s.”  I’m not going to mention those jokes.

Because I must admit, I’ll probably go see this movie.  Ladies, you must understand that for guys there is an unwritten code about movies.  Now, before you write us off as “animals” or other slobbish stereotypes -- we do like “serious” movies, too.  You know, movies that really say something.  After all, we’re not made of stone.  I’ve even been known to take my wife out and sit through (and actually enjoy) a romantic comedy that would otherwise be categorized as a “chick flick.”

However, for men there is also a Whitman-esque barbaric yawp that must be sounded over the roofs (or in this case, the theaters) of the world.  This ruffian need is answered by movies in which there is plenty of stuff blowing up, fast cars, fighting to overcome incredible odds, and. . . well, lots of “yawping.”  This explains why there was enough box office draw in 1987 to support a film like Over the Top -- the movie entirely about arm-wrestling.  (Incidentally, this is also why in high school, when there was a fight, the boys would circle around to watch as opposed to stepping in to stop it).

 

So ladies, I implore you.  If you have a man caring enough to sit through Pride and Prejudice, when he could be out doing something more enjoyable like -- oh, I don’t know, poking himself in the eye with a pencil -- then by all means, occasionally go with him to see one of those movies after which the most noble thing that can be said is “Wow!  That was cool!”

I close with a quote from the new Rocky movie.  I challenge anyone to understand what in the heck Rocky is really trying to say;  but after all, he did get hit in the head a lot in the first five films.  And that was cool!

     

“What is it you said to the kid? The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very rough, mean place... and no matter how tough you think you are, it'll always bring you to your knees and keep you there, permanently... if you let it. You or nobody ain't never gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard you hit... it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward... how much you can take, and keep moving forward. If you know what you're worth, go out and get what you're worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hit.”

I love the movies:-)

A link to the official blog for the new Rocky movie

Gollywood!

My love for the cinema makes me sometimes wonder if I was born a few decades too late.  I think I would have enjoyed the “hey-day” of movie-going -- the 30’s and 40’s -- when going out to a movie was an “event” in and of itself.  For evening shows, people got dressed up to go sit in huge, plush theaters -- not the little cracker-box rooms that make up our multiplexes.  Tasseled, velvety curtains would part, a massive screen would be revealed, and the crowd would applaud.  For the next few hours they were transported by movies like “Gone with the Wind” -- movies with colors so rich you could almost taste them.  These audiences watched actors who (although far from perfect) were unblemished by the tabloid rumor mill.  Movie-goers didn’t know and didn’t feel the need to know all the “dirt” on celebrities, and they probably cared very little about these stars’ political “stances.”  The movie was the thing.      

The matinee audience was a little different.  I salivate at the afternoon adventures my dad tells of.  Twenty-five cents got you a Coke, a popcorn, a 15-minute serial, and two full-length westerns.  Afterwards the escapades continued, not in front of a video game, but in the backyard -- where slingshots, stick horses, and skinned knees became the tools of the Old West. 

I know that in one sense, there is no such thing as “the good old days.”  But I do think that our wonderful medium of film, once so epic and “untouchable”, has become tainted by Hollywood gossip, $3.00 candy bars, and the depiction of casual immorality as “the norm.”

That being said, I’m still a fan of the cinema (at least some of it).  I took my oldest son to the movies today.  We bought our somewhat overpriced tickets and extremely overpriced concessions, settled into our narrow seats, and prepared for a few good laughs.  I love the feeling of anticipation that comes when the lights dim and you know the movie is about to begin.  However, that feeling was soon squelched as we proceeded to watch -- are you ready for this?  SEVEN COMMERCIALS!  Not movie previews -- but consumer commercials.  I totally don’t get this.  Did I pay $6.50 (matinee price) to sit through the same advertisements that I just left home to get away from?  By the time I learned all about how Sprite and six other products were going to change my life; and by the time I watched the previews for at least every movie that’s coming out in the next year -- 20 minutes had passed!  20 minutes!  Why if 20 minutes had passed in a 1939 movie, you’d have already found out that Scarlett O’Hara loved Ashley Wilkes!  20 more minutes and you’d know that Clark Gable was squinting the heck out of everybody way before Clint Eastwood ever thought about it!

(Okay, Carey, calm down – deep breaths).  Now I know in the grand scheme of things, me having to wait 20 minutes before my movie began is not the end of the world.  My son and I actually had a great time overall.  There’s just a part of me that wonders if some people in our media-saturated, consumer-driven culture have missed the joy and adventure of not just going to the movies -- but really letting them take you somewhere.

Not just any story. . .the hawk story

During a recent bike ride, I saw a hawk flying overhead.  It was beautiful and majestic, like Grace Kelly . . .with feathers.  I found myself wanting Mr. Hawk to fly closer.  And then for some strange reason, I thought to myself, “Maybe if I make the sound of an injured baby rabbit, the hawk will think it’s dinner-time and come closer.”  Now, mind you, at the time I thought this was a totally rational idea.  So right there in the open, I started making a sound -- a high-pitched sound that I thought might resemble the distress cry of an injured bunny.  I’m not sure why I thought it would sound like that, since I’ve never even heard or been near an injured bunny.  Nevertheless, I decided to go for it.

Unfortunately, the hawk didn’t take the bait.  As a matter of fact, he flew in the opposite direction.  Perhaps my screeches and whistles scared him away.  In retrospect, I felt kind of guilty for trying to trick him and get his hopes up about dinner-time.  I mean, me trying to sound like a lame rabbit is kind of like the hawk trying to attract me by making the sound of some crunchy nachos.  I’d be pretty mad if I heard nachos, only to discover it was all a sham. 

This event definitely changed my life forever, as I’m sure it has yours.