We go from wanting to be just like our parents to hoping that we avoid the same mistakes and pitfalls that seemed to cut them short of reaching their dreams.
they come up with for When Harry Met Sally… I will be purchasing every one. Normally, I hate when studios release a barebones DVD, then a special edition DVD, then a collector’s edition DVD like the one of WHMS being released today. But I bought the barebones when it was on VHS. I bought the special edition, and I will be buying this one. Am I a hopeless romantic? No. Not anymore. But I’ve always been enamored with the idea of falling in love with my best friend. I don’t see how it could get any better than that.
Anyway, this collector’s edition is supposed to have a commentary that includes Rob Reiner, Billy Crystal and Nora Ephron. I’m looking forward to the banter. The last DVD only had Rob Reiner, and he spoke so little, sometimes I forgot I was watching the commentary. That is until I started really getting into the movie, then he would blurt something out, scaring the shit outta me in the process.
This movie came out in 1989. I remember when and in which theater I saw it. Great movies make their mark in time for me. For instance, No Country For Old Men? A rainy Thursday night, free screening with my friend Randy. We sat next to an old lady friend of his and her husband and at the film’s conclusion, Randy threw his hand in the air and said, “I’m glad that was free!” Of course, he has since recanted that remark. Still, the night is vivid in my head because the movie was so great. Ask me where I was when Howard the Duck came out. Go ahead. Ask me. You’ll get a blank stare.
It’s hard to believe that next year will be the 20th anniversary of When Harry Met Sally… It depresses me a bit. I first saw it my senior year in high school. Jeez. Time doesn’t fly, it abandons. The sad thing is you can’t keep it from getting away from you.
If they decide to put out a 20th anniversary edition, guess who will be at the front of the line to make his purchase?
I worry about money. That’s not to say that I am a skinflint, but I can be particular about where and what I spend my money on, especially when it comes to large purchases. Large purchases to me are any items that cost over $100. As a result of this, I have often postponed purchasing certain items even though I know it would probably be in my best interest to buy them. Examples would be my car, a new computer, a large screen television (as of yet still not purchased), and my house. Out of all these things, I can honestly say that they were all good buys — except perhaps the house. But sometimes we do things because we think our heads are on straight only to realize later when our heads are in fact straight that the things we did were horribly idiotic.
“What,” you say to me with frustration cresting your brow, “does this have to do with resolutions?”
Well, this is what. I have been driving my Honda accord for nearly ten years. In that ten year span, my car has been broken into approximately six or seven times, most recently right before this past Christmas. During those times I have had several windows busted out, two stereos stolen, 100+ cds stolen and my idealism dashed upon the dark and pointed rocks of reality. This last break-in, the robbers ripped out my dashboard and stole the stereo that was actually a replacement stereo for the last stereo they stole. They hit my neighbor’s vehicle too. In fact, the morning of the robbery, my neighbor, who must be a septuagenarian and I have a sneaky suspicion that he is a vet as well, emerged from his house and exclaimed, “Ain’t that a bitch?!?” As pissed as I was about my current predicament, I must admit that it took everything in me to stifle the chuckle any young man would get when he hears grandpa cursing like Dolemite.
Any person who is reading this right now is probably asking the question, “Why didn’t you get an alarm years ago?” And you expect me to say, “Because I’m an idiot.” But I am not going to say that. I think 10% of the blame goes to me because I should know that evil lurks in the hearts of men. But 90% of the blame should go to the person or persons who actually committed the crime. Don’t you agree? At what point is it right to blame the victim? When Jodie Foster was in the bar dancing erotically (The Accused) and those men jumped her, was it her fault? Was she asking for it? Nope. I’m not equating stereo theft to rape, but I will say that a person feels violated in both cases.
If you read my earlier blog on my New Years resolutions, you would see that one of my resolutions was to get a car alarm. Now, the depressing part of this is that I will probably only have the car for another year or so, but hey, at least I feel secure in knowing that those assholes no longer have an easy target.
So, already in the month of January, I have achieved one of my goals. Hurrah! Hurrah! I have created a new category called Resolutions just so that I (and you if you so choose) can keep track of the resolutions I knock out before this year is complete. Wish me luck.
One more thing. I didn’t post about the car robbery before because I thought I should get the alarm first. With every other break-in I ranted about finally getting an alarm and never did. So, I wanted to make sure I stuck to my guns and did it. Otherwise I would probably start to give myself 20%-25% of the blame. I mean, seriously…
And lastly, the cop who came to take a report on my robbery was the laziest sonofabitch cop I have ever seen, and I’ve seen some lazy ones. It was raining on the morning he arrived and when he got there, I quickly ran out into the rain and recounted what happened. I could feel the warmth from his car’s heater wafting through his window and warming my chilled face. My back and arms were being pelted by stinging cold raindrops, which made that little warmth feel that much better. The cop must have loved it because he was hunkered down in his seat so far I was wondering if his ass was touching the asphalt below. He took my report and then he honked for my old, cursing like a sailor neighbor. That’s right. He didn’t get out of the car and walk over to him. He honked.
When I thought the cop was done, I went into my house and called the insurance company. While I was on the phone, my back was to my front door. The door was still open with the screen door closed. Through the screen door came this bright light and it danced on the walls in front of me and onto the ceiling. I turned around and saw that the cop was signaling me with his little side spotlight. That’s right. He didn’t get out of his car and knock on my door. He gave me a spotlight. Like I’m friggin’ Liza Minneli.
I walk out to the cop’s car and he says, “I need you to sign this.” He is holding a metal clipboard with a copy of the robbery report on it. I go to grab the clipboard and pull it towards me so I can sign it and the cop snatches it back into the car. “Nu uh. Lean inside and sign it. I don’t want to get wet.”
“What??? You don’t want to get wet?!? Motherf*****, I just got robbed! And you don’t want to get wet?? Get your lazy ass out that car!”
That’s what I wanted to say. I may have actually just uttered, “Yes, officer.”
I can see it now. Two guys are robbing a liquor store one rain-soaked night and as they emerge from the store, this cop is honking his horn and flashing his spotlight at them.
“You guys need to stop. Come over here.”
“Come and get us, copper!”
“Naw, nu uh. You come over and get these handcuffs and put them on yourself then jump in the back. I don’t wanna get wet.”
Protect and serve, my ass.
This is the new Tata Nano.
It is being introduced in India as “The People’s Car”, a cheap and efficient way for a family of four to have transportation. It’s a two cylinder vehicle which only makes me writhe when I think about it eventually coming to the states. Just imagine being on the interstate behind one of these. Even Fred Flintstone would point and laugh at this car. “That’s innovation? No. No, thank you. Wilma would kick my ass if I came home with — Look, I’ll keep my car made of wood and granite, okay? My bare feet have got more horsepower than that chick pea.”
The car is only going for about $2,500 in U.S. dollars, which is exceedingly cheap and actually quite practical. But exporting it to other countries? Did we learn nothing from the Geo Metro or the Yugo? You have to do what you can to survive and make it. So I am not denigrating efficiency. But if you are a man picking up a woman for a date in this car, you should know that unless she is really, really, really, really into you (or blind (with no hands or sense of proportion), you will probably end your evening at home…alone…and watching internet porn.
The thing I hate most about getting older is that I know my time is getting shorter. Yes, I’m only 35, but I think about things from fifteen, twenty years ago and it feels like at least half that amount of time. Snap of the fingers and I’ll be fifty. The thing I love most about getting older is knowing that I can’t waste my time with people or things that are not meant to be long-lasting. When I was 25 and a rare opportunity presented itself, I latched onto it and held on for dear life, fearing that something so (seemingly) wonderful would never appear again. Now, my definition of “rare opportunity” has a much narrower scope. What’s rare is being able to live your life exactly the way you want to live it. And if you find yourself in that position, well…don’t f*ck it up. Life is short, but with the wrong decisions, you will find yourself begging for the grave long before your days are meant to be over.