At the very least, I found my wristwatch and wedding ring.
Attempts to return to a normal life continue; I’m back to trying to get through to the media relations folks at the Houston Zoo to shoot the footage I need for the second half of my July story. My hair did not get miraculously shorter (just thinner and grayer) over the weekend, so I need to take care of that. Yes, various utilities, I know you require my attention and money but I’ve been busy.
The oddest thing: despite, well, massive indifference among my peers, I’ve been itching to get back to my project of reading the entire run of Cerebus. It’s not so much indifference as Tweets to effect of “I gave up on it about (name of story arc)”. I know, I know, so did I. The exact point is kind of problematic for me, as I kept trying to get back into it. I’m about to start volume 11, Guys, and I know I’ve read parts of it, I can remember at least one bit with fair clarity, yet most of the stuff in the preceding two volumes were news to me.
The “I gave up on that” meme has been floating around in my life a lot lately. Most notably during the final season of Lost, when every mention I made of the show was almost inevitably followed by a sniff and a vaguely superior “Oh, I gave up on that years ago.” Well, (to channel Paul Lynde, who has also been in my life a bit much of late) good fer you. I guess you cured cancer in the time you saved.
What really brings it to a head was just before our last crapfest, when Dave had, prior to our arrival, been watching some box set or other of ‘Allo, ‘Allo, and I mentioned that ever since seeing Inglourious Basterds, it was impossible for me to watch a scene in the cafe without expecting it to degenerate into a bloody firefight. This gave rise to a universal, “Yeah, I haven’t seen it, I gave up on Tarantino a long time ago” chorus.
Okay, folks are entitled to their opinion. No, wait, folks are entitled to their informed opinions. “I gave up on that years ago” is not an informed opinion. My movie watching is full of instances of giving directors, actors, writers another chance, and it pays off. Brian DePalma usually gives me a rash, but The Untouchables is one of my favorite movies. So I think that ignoring an Academy Award-winning movie because you somehow associate the director with Pogs or Push Pops or similar embarrassing crap that you left behind when you grew up is just plain stupid.
Yeah, I expect this to bite me on the ass sometime in the future, when I get high and mighty about something in some media or other. Probably when someone tries to get me to watch a Brian DePalma movie. And it will serve me right.
drfreex.com 