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June 23, 2004 Bone-chilling, adorable, action-packed, and epic- love-story, are all phrases describing various movies and books. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to know what kind of movie or cartoon, or whatever is ahead by those descriptions. Thing is, some of those descriptions are just off by a hair. I watched a sitcom the other night that advertisements characterized as hilarious. Wow, were they wrong. It sucked goosebumps. Or, did it? Creative works face a critical audience, a subjective audience. I like cynicism. Some comedy shows are slap-stick. I'm not a real slap- stick kind of guy (I always liked The Three Stooges, though). I love sci-fi and action mysteries. Some folks find them boorish and rednecked. I might be boorish, but I'm not redneck and I still love thrillers. If any of you are rednecked, my apologies. I like rednecks. I just hate seeing their dogs trapped between the hooks on their trucks' gun-rack. Darn, I got off-topic. I swore I wouldn't do that. Sometimes I wander. Back to the movies. I thought Dr. Zivago was a great epic love-and-war story. My wife didn't care for it much. Of course, some of you have never heard of Dr. Zivago (just get your dog's head out of the gun-rack, okay?) My wife loved The Wedding Planner and it made me gag on our newly carpeted floor. Here's my theory. If your wife/girlfriend/boyfriend says they just saw an “adorable” movie, run away. Go hunting or 4x4 mud-sliding. Watch arena football and drink beer. Say all the “f” words you can remember and watch roller derby reruns. In fact, if they say they just saw a marvelous movie with Jay Lo and Ben, get out of Dodge. Grab your pony and ride. There is another side to this theory of course, the girlfriend/wife/boyfriend side. When you come home with a DVD and tell your little love bug you've got a great Bruce Willis flick to watch, they don't run. They sit through the misery of Bruce and for the next six weeks they won't cook your dinner or they'll crack your new fishing pole over your head. Eventually you try to eat the dead dog stuck in the gun-rack.
There is no answer to this age-old problem. It's
one of those Venus/Mars things. Men are prone to
action-packed thrillers, women love Tom Hanks
and Forest Gump. They love Meg Ryan and Brad
Pitt. Men dig Clint Eastwood, Bruce Willis, and
Arnold Schwartzneger (I never knew how to spell
the governor's name). They can't help
themselves. It's some kind of socio-biological
flaw from the beginning of time. Cavemen ate
rare bison; cave women preferred it charcoaled.
Cavemen went skateboarding and cave women picked
wild chestnuts. It's not my fault. I'm not the
big creator guy. I'm just trying to figure out
how to break into that truck. I figure the dog
is a little on the medium to medium-rare side
right about now.
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