Wednesday, July 9, 2008

My Diet

I’m reporting to Hal the NPR story of the attempted attack on our embassy in Turkey. To quote the military, “It’s too early to speculate on the reason for the attack.” Well, gee, Wally, whatever you say. Ever the out-of-the-box-thinker, Hal says, “They’re mad because “Friends” was cancelled.” Wow. I mean, the show was good, but was it worth all the effort: getting guns, wearing a coat in Turkey in the summer, driving a beat up car, not to mention the whole getting killed thing… I’m thinking a few complaint letters would have gone further.
For my part, I avoid such disappointment by not watching TV. Before you think I’ve gone all Montana-ranch, gingham-shirt-and-jean-skirt weird on you, let me explain. I’m not organized enough to watch TV regularly. But when I get there, I am lazy enough to sit down and watch an entire season of, say, “Arrested Development”, gracias a Netflix.
I always thought kids who weren’t allowed to watch TV were bizarre. They did things like macramé and homework. Lame. Now that I’m a parent of three precious, pure angels, I’ve got to say that if it weren’t for the whole babysitting factor, I’d be sorely tempted to run an axe down the middle of our big black box. That and, oh, yah, I really really like the mindlessness of it all. Sure, we watch History Channel and PBS, but nothing beats a good episode of “Psych” or “No Reservations” (Anthony Bourdain, not the silver-screen flick). I’m considering upping our membership at Netflix to 6 DVD’s at a time. Just how long can I go without using my brain at all? I’ve had a lot of practice, so I’m betting it could be a solid month before I have to focus on anything of substance.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Forever Young My Lily White...

Apparently, I’m old. This comes as something of a shock to me because I still feel 16. Being old and partially senile, awareness of my problem settled slowly. It began last week when I played chase with a group of under-10-year-olds. One of them said, “You’re pretty fast for an old lady.” I laughed—ah, the innocent remarks of youth. Then, just today, I saw an ad that sent me into fits of depression. An ad for a movie. A movie I consider to be one of the quintessential, age-defining movies of my generation. You know the one. Matthew Broderick plays a genius lurking inside a strapping 20-something body. Wow. Talk about pre-teen fantasies.
So, imagine my shock when the ad comes on and says, no kidding, that there will be a celebration to commemorate the 25th anniversary of War Games. 25!!!! That’s so old! That’s pre-digital, back when PacMan had kick-butt graphics and people still said things like “kick-butt”. OHMYGOSH!! Not only do they play Billy Idol on the “Oldies but Goodies” station, but now I have to endure watching my movie remade by stupid kids who won’t even appreciate what a cool thing Matthew did by subverting an entire governmental super-secret, top-officials-only computer.
And that’s how I know I’m old. It’s one thing to fall in love with a movie on American Movie Classics; it’s quite another to remember watching it in the theater. Now I know why Rod Stewart begged us to stay “Forever Young” and why the song made me want to gag a maggot. Besides the fact that a mostly-gay 80 year old man had chicks my age dancing around him, he piggy-backed on Alphaville’s most righteous tune by the same name and proved himself a total lame-o.
Anyway, point is, I have crossed over to the “remember when” side and I find it a scary, scary place indeed.