As many of my wife’s loyal readers know, she loves to go to the movies. What you may not know, however, is that she really has bad taste in picking movies that we would want to see together. This utterly unendearing trait became evident early on in our marriage when she “suggested” (a.k.a. unabashedly raved about) a movie she wanted to see called “At Long Last Love” with Cybil Shepherd. And you would be right to wonder how a guy who can’t remember the name or actors in a movie he saw last week could remember this one after more than 25 years. The answer is simple; it was one of the most painful experiences I have had to endure without anesthesia.(EDITORIAL COMMENT FROM MOI: Yes, this is true. I don’t remember why I wanted to see this movie, but I think “They” said it was good. They were wrong. It was awful. And we walked out.)
After many years of scoffing at her suggestions and occasionally making the cardinal husband sin of laughing at her for crying hysterically at some (inane) movie (EDITORIAL COMMENT FROM MOI: It was “Beaches.” I loved it but I was HYSTERICAL and...I didn’t (SOB, SOB) want to leave. Go figure.) she has now banished me to one of her less preferred theater dates. I think I am somewhere between her friends and a screaming infant. This has caused me some angst at times when there was a movie I really wanted to see, and I was told “it’s a chick flick,” knowing that this was her way of saying “I’ll enjoy this more without you.” That worked for “Brokeback Mountain,” and every movie starring Hugh Grant. But when I was the only husband not allowed to see “The Devil Wears Prada,” even though Meryl Streep is one of my favorite actresses, I suspected I had been duped. (EDITORIAL COMMENT FROM MOI: I still maintain he is missing enough metrosexual genes to really enjoy it...but I am making him rent it over Xmas vacation to see.)
Okay, that's enough posting for you-know-who. I know return this channel to moi. Stay tuned in a few days for Part II: My Wife (the movie-Nazi)'s Guide to Movies.