Category Archives: I am really 90

Mmm…George Clooney

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Have you seen the movie Up in the Air? If not, I recommend you do so; it is an excellent movie. I say this with authority because I actually stayed awake through the entire film. This is notable because I’m famous – in my own small circle, anyway – for falling asleep and missing the ending of the majority of movies I see. Last weekend we watched Sherlock Holmes and I found the plot not at all engaging, and although I think Robert Downey Jr. is QUITE attractive, I fell asleep an hour before it ended. I have seen the beginning of many, many movies but I’m generally quite fuzzy on how they end, due to my movie-induced narcolepsy. Action movies are the worst. Car chases! Explosions! Special effects! They all result in me passed out on the couch.

The last movie I saw in an actual movie theatre was – hang on to your hats! – Pirates of the Caribbean Part Two, and, of course, I fell asleep probably ten minutes into the movie, waking up intermittently to scenes of scary looking pirate-y things with the arm of the seat jammed uncomfortably in my side. A friend recently asked why I didn’t go to the movie theatre more often – don’t I have babysitters – and really, my reasoning is that my couch is a much less expensive and much more comfortable place to fall asleep.

So that was a highlight of the weekend, me watching a movie from start to finish. Also happening around my house: the Masters. Do you live with a golfer? Or a golf fan? I seem to have married someone who is both of those and the Masters takes on importance even greater than the US Open. He has been following it this weekend, simultaneously wishing he himself was on the golf course – icy winds and melting snow keeping him from doing so – and frequently calling me to the television to watch a particularly good shot. Are they called shots? I’m not sure. Paying attention to the Masters, and other sporting events, is something I do to keep my marriage vital. That is my Public Service Announcement for the day: for a strong marriage, at least feign interest in sporting events. My husband’s related PSA would likely have something to do with providing crazy wife with all the wine she wants, which probably explains why the Scouts looked so excited when they arrived at our house for their bottle drive this weekend. Hooray, our camping trip is funded! A very amusing part of the Masters has been my husband repeatedly muttering expletives about Tiger Woods. Tiger Woods: spokesperson for skankiness everywhere. Speaking of which: have you seen that Nike commercial? Ew. That is all I have to say. Ew, ew, ew.

On that note, I will sign off. Here’s to a positive and happy week! Hope you all had a lovely weekend.

You’re out of touch, I’m out of time

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“Why do old people always talk about the weather?” I clearly recall asking my mother this question, probably flipping my spiral-permed hair with my mood-ring-adorned hand and rolling my eyes. Likely I was wearing a black Depeche Mode concert t-shirt with ripped jeans at the time of this comment. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would speak about anything as mundane as the weather. Frankly, I couldn’t imagine not having incredibly meaningful conversations about poetry and alternative music at all times, the kind of conversations that would arouse emotions and incite heated debate.

But how about this weather?

It has been unusually warm over the past couple of days, and, since I am acclimatized to minus twenty, it feels like an absolute heat wave. A heat wave in which I am still wearing my winter boots and coat but still. It’s the kind of weather that instantly lifts my mood and makes me feel like Spring! Is! On! The! Way! Of course, this is ridiculous considering where I live but let’s just walk away from negativity, shall we?

I watched the movie In Bruges this weekend and it was incredible: hilariously funny, heart-breakingly touching, and possibly one of the most interesting movies I have ever seen. I enthusiastically recommended it to a few people, and the response was, consistently, that it is a great movie and that they saw it a few years ago, when it came out. Oh. I am always months and years behind on movie watching. One of these days I’m going to watch Brokeback Mountain. Even my grandmother has seen Brokeback Mountain – she saw it in the movie theatre – so I am officially more out of touch with popular culture than my grandmother. Actually, I am way more out of touch; she probably knows who Kim Kardashian is. The last movie I saw in the theatre was Pirates of the Caribbean Part Two, and I slept through most of it.

All of which is to say, I’m feeling a bit old. This feeling is not helped by the radio station I listen to, which frequently advertises for Grey Power Insurance. The other day I was listening to it, and the theme song from Golden Girls came on. First, I didn’t know that it was an actual song, not just a theme, and second, I SANG ALONG TO IT. Passionately. “And if you threw a PARTY, invited everyone you KNEW…”

What’s next? Coercing my husband into watching Jeopardy! and then answering all questions, out loud, in the form of a question? Oh wait.

Happy Birthday Dear Husband

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Tomorrow is my husband’s birthday! The boys are giving him a box of golf balls and I am giving him two golf shirts. I’m also baking a chocolate layer cake. This is exactly the same gift and cake combination as last year, and quite possibly the year before that. I can see myself many years in the future, wearing my old-lady slacks and fancy beaded sweater, my support hose and my bright pink feathery lipstick, presenting my husband with two golf shirts, a box of golf balls, and a chocolate layer cake.

Sometimes I think of us when we are old and in a lot of ways, things will not be much different. I will still want to eat dinner at 4:45 and go to bed at 9. My husband, in the tradition of old men everywhere, already swears at the local meteorologist. “That Schulz is a (something something) idiot. Just give me the (something something) forecast already, and stop with the (something something) jokes.”

Speaking of forecasts, I saw an older couple in a garden center who showed me a glimpse of my future. The lady had an armful of boxed bulbs, which the man was eying suspiciously. “I don’t know where you think you’re going to plant them”, he said. “But they’re so pretty!” she replied. “Do you think I’m going to dig up more lawn?” he asked somewhat grumpily. The lady – and although she was a complete stranger, I admire her greatly – smiled sweetly and did the old-lady equivalent of eyelash batting. He sighed. “All right. All right. Just get them. I guess we’ll make room.”

If you substituted perennials for bulbs, and “I’m going to dig” with “you’re going to dig”, you would have the exact conversation my husband and I have every spring! And possibly the exact conversation we will have for the next forty springs! One of these days he’s going to come home and wonder where the lawn went.

All of which is to say I’m looking forward to celebrating many more birthdays with my wonderful husband. Happy birthday, sweetheart!