Monday Smiles – 3/4/2013
It’s very unusual that, as Date Night rolls around, Muri and I don’t have plans. But ordinarily rich cultural scene of Southern California had nothing to offer this week. That usually means the movies, so I found myself sitting in the park Saturday morning, looking for a film that both Muri and I would want to see at the two local ($5 for seniors) theaters. The problem is … we see a LOT of movies. We’d seem Silver Linings Playbook, Lincoln, Identity Thief and Argo. Muri’d seen Django Unchained with her friend, Joan. Neither of us wanted to see Zero Dark Thirty (too much torture), Escape from Planet Earth (Muri doesn’t like animation), 21 and Older (beyond sophomoric), The Last Exorcism (we don’t do horror) or Snitch (the Rock doesn’t). Jack the Giant Slayer … Jack and the Beanstalk for supposed adults? Seriously? That left Safe Haven (dumb chick flick) and A Good Day to Die Hard (dumb shoot em’ up). And … hello … Quartet. A home for retired musicians. A new resident, played by Maggie Smith, whose ego ended friendships and even a marriage among the currents residents. Can they forget the past? I thought, Music ! Old people !! Maggie Smith !!! then texted Muri:
Bud: Quartet is at the Starlight Theaters. Want to invite Ron and Kerry then go to dinner?
Muri: Joan and I have plans to see it on Tuesday.
Muri: I’m sorry. Is there anything else?
Bud: (after long pause) Not really.
Yes, it is possible for a man to sulk by text. Eventually … sulking over … we decided to see a dumb flick by ourselves. I offered to see Safe Haven but Muri (possibly tired of seeing me sulk) said she’d see A Good Day to Die Hard.
We arrived early and settled into the mostly empty theater for an evening of mayhem. Before the theater went dark, a troupe of men in their fifties filed into the row in front of us. Are we in the men’s section? I asked. One turned around, glanced at Muri and said, No, we just don’t have wives that will go to a Die Hard Movie with us. There was hint of jealousy in his voice. I couldn’t resist rubbing it in a bit. I offered to see Safe Haven, I said, but she said she’d see Die Hard. She’s a Keeper, he said enviously. Oh yeah. I wonder what he’d think of me if he knew I’d rather be watching Quartet.
Die Hard was indeed dumb, with the requisite number of shootouts, car chases, explosions … and one bad guy reduced to a red mist by a helicopter blade. But it was Date Night with my Keeper. It’s Monday … I’m Smiling.