Winter isn't all bad. The snow covers a multitude of scars and ugliness. One learns to appreciate temperatures in the double digits. And to brighten the short and dreary days are the upcoming Super Bowl and Academy Awards.
I know next to nothing about football, and if the Patriots aren't involved I care slightly less. My friends Jeff and Mary invite my family (whoever is around) to their beautiful home every year for a party to watch the game. Usually the women are upstairs chatting. Usually I'm downstairs in the Man Cave, sitting front and center on the couch, beer in hand, and cheering on...the commercials. It's the only time of the year that the advertising agencies really try, and sometimes the results are worth watching. When the children were smaller Himself and I used to make our snacks during the playing time and scurry back to the screen for the ads. They are still my favorite part of the festivities.
Then there is the mad scramble to see as many Best Picture Nominees as possible. I've seen a few this year. So far I've seen "Lincoln", "Beasts of the Southern Wild" and yesterday "Silver Linings Playbook". "Django Unchained" and "Zero Dark Thirty" both strike me as too violent for me to watch. I am an Orthodox Wuss. I want to see "Argo" and "Life of Pi". I'm undecided about "Amour" since it seems to echo the story of my life and I've had enough of senior care for right now, thank you. "Silver Linings Playbook" was a pleasant surprise. I didn't know what to expect going in, which made it more fun. One of my favorite scenes was when the son, at three o'clock in the morning, feels compelled to throw Ernest Hemingway through a window, so disgusted is he with the writing. Son Number One will jump up and cheer when he sees that part. He loathes "Papa Hemingway" with a white heat. At nine o'clock last night I texted him about the scene. At one-forty-five this morning he texted back. I was ready to throw HIM through a window. Still, it makes for a good story. And in the dead of January we all need a good story to tell.
I know next to nothing about football, and if the Patriots aren't involved I care slightly less. My friends Jeff and Mary invite my family (whoever is around) to their beautiful home every year for a party to watch the game. Usually the women are upstairs chatting. Usually I'm downstairs in the Man Cave, sitting front and center on the couch, beer in hand, and cheering on...the commercials. It's the only time of the year that the advertising agencies really try, and sometimes the results are worth watching. When the children were smaller Himself and I used to make our snacks during the playing time and scurry back to the screen for the ads. They are still my favorite part of the festivities.
Then there is the mad scramble to see as many Best Picture Nominees as possible. I've seen a few this year. So far I've seen "Lincoln", "Beasts of the Southern Wild" and yesterday "Silver Linings Playbook". "Django Unchained" and "Zero Dark Thirty" both strike me as too violent for me to watch. I am an Orthodox Wuss. I want to see "Argo" and "Life of Pi". I'm undecided about "Amour" since it seems to echo the story of my life and I've had enough of senior care for right now, thank you. "Silver Linings Playbook" was a pleasant surprise. I didn't know what to expect going in, which made it more fun. One of my favorite scenes was when the son, at three o'clock in the morning, feels compelled to throw Ernest Hemingway through a window, so disgusted is he with the writing. Son Number One will jump up and cheer when he sees that part. He loathes "Papa Hemingway" with a white heat. At nine o'clock last night I texted him about the scene. At one-forty-five this morning he texted back. I was ready to throw HIM through a window. Still, it makes for a good story. And in the dead of January we all need a good story to tell.
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