Thursday evening, a.k.a. Thanksgiving Day evening,
the clan had settled in to watch football. Now, here's the thing--the Yard Man and I are not great fans of football. We both, however, are fans of certain little celebrities who had shown up at the Thanksgiving Dinner. We like to be seen in public with these little stars. So, we up and took my cute little actors to a cute little movie about cute little penguins (well, and it also featured a nasty man named Dave, who frequently turned into a monster-slash-octopus and provided the good-guy-versus-bad-guy intrigue [which kept the Little Actor and the Small Actor at rapt attention!])
"Can we go to a movie tonight, you and I?" First Daughter inquired. We could, and we did. St. Vincent was the movie. The theater in which we saw the film sported luxurious, reclining seats. The movie starred Bill Murray, and it made me laugh in places, and it also made me cry. We had snacks. We chatted before and after (and made little whispered comments in between). All of this, Reader Dear, made for movie-going at its finest!
"Theory of Everything is finally showing!" I told The Yard Man. "We've got friends who want to go with us tonight! Let's go!"
Reader Dear (possible Viewer?) it was an impressive portrayal of the fascinating life of physicist Stephen Hawking. A story worth seeing.
Following the movie, The Yard Man and I, with our friends, went to a nearby eating place. Naturally (it follows), we ate. Then, as we walked out of the restaurant into the chilly night air, I commented to The Yard Man what a very fine evening it had been. "I'm on a movie streak!" I exclaimed. "Three nights in a row!"
Had I ever had a streak such as this before?
But then came the following Tuesday! I set off by myself, and spent a good chunk of my day at the movies alone. Dear Reader, I had marked this one on my calendar a long time ago, back when I first saw the theater list of Monday-night showings of classic movies. "Anybody want to go with me?" I'd asked my friends, and I got one taker. Janie and I made plans to go. Ah, but when I went for tickets, they were all sold out.
Due to demand, however, there would be another showing on Tuesday morning.
Janie was still game to go.
She was still game to go...but neither of us had counted on snow!
Of course, there wasn't actually any snow (no ice either), but there was that pesky forecast! And there was the fact (we'd both researched it) that this movie I was interested in seeing is two hundred and twenty-two minutes long! My goodness, by the time we exited the theater there could be icy precipitation piled up! Janie and I discussed the situation in a phone call Tuesday morning and decided to nix the (possibly hazardous) trip home. (Please draw your own conclusions, Reader Dear, as to what that did to our plans for the trip to the theater.)
I hung up the phone. I looked out the window and studied the heavily overcast sky. I contemplated how I'd been looking forward to seeing this classic movie. And then I re-read the forecast, and I said, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn!" (to no one in particular).
I put on my coat, threw a broom (snow-removal tool) and an ice-scraper into the car, and set out for the theater.
But, oh, see here...
four-and-a-half hours* in the theater and there was no snow! Not a hint of ice!
I was sorry things didn't end well for Scarlet, but this was a nice happy ending for me and my movie-going streak!
*The projectionist had a little trouble with the film.
One hour into the movie, the tiny audience sat for nearly twenty minutes (watching commercials) while they tinkered with the civil war scene. An hour following, when the screen read "Intermission" there was no intermission.