Tag: Harry Potter

Confessions of a Moviegoing Popcorn Princess

Lately my readers would get the impression I spent my entire existence watching television. Okay, so much of it anyway. And I suppose I am guilty of not being able to resist a laugh provided by my favorite comics and sitcom stars. However, that is only part of the hours I spent enjoying media. I am also a rabid cinema fanatic. Old, new, no biggie, I’m on board.

Yes, I possess a certain addiction to the big screen. It’s not just the popcorn, although I admit it adds to the experience. Sadly, now the home screen also serves up great films.

I know we all have our favorites in every genre and I must confess mine cross the board and include comedies, adventure and mystery and Hitchcock (I consider his movies a genre of their own).

If I go down the list of my all-time favs, and there are not megabytes to include them all on my computer, I realize so many are older.

Of course there are the usual suspects.

From Casablanca to Godfather one and two, but there are also others some might not quite agree rank up so high.

Yet for crazy reasons of my own I seem to enjoy watching them whenever possible.

Yes, there are certain criteria that go with judging a film great, yet so many other factors enter into the equation.

Who you watched it with, where you were, does it evoke a treasured memory, something about the scenery or location makes you feel all warm and fuzzy, or it contains a favorite actor.

Yes, there are universal components to these elements, yet there is also a very personal connection to many movies that stand out in your own life.

Some I share with the world are the Star Wars, Avengers, Back to the Future series, E.T., Rear Window, all Indiana Jones, with the exception of Temple of Doom.

Witness for the Prosecution, Singin in the Rain, Citizen Kane, Die Hard franchise, To Kill a Mockingbird, It’s a Wonderful Life, Some Like it Hot, The Treasure of Sierra Madre, Life of Brian, Gone with the Wind, Harry Potter series, Ben Hur, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Wizard of Oz, and Network. And so many others. There is no doubt countless great movies have graced the silver screen and brought us untold hours of joy. Yet, many of my favs might not have come up on your favorites radar.

I suppose we should qualify what make a movie great. I know there are many differences of opinion about this, hence the critics who often disagree. Still, if a film is universally popular and registers enormous amounts of money does that make it a great movie? There is a difference between a great movie and a financial success.

Popular and artistic don’t always go hand in hand. Although it’s true they oftentimes coexist.

Still many small movies have been judged exceptional, despite the fact they appeal to a small audience. I think the term is “indies.” Many of these are made from the heart and a dream. A great story can lure you in and transport you. Blockbusters are created by a studio’s need to make money.

Big Budget movies can be entertaining, but don’t guarantee the components of greatness. Yet what is important is the way you feel when you are watching. Does the movie make you laugh, scare you, evoke great memories and a warm feeling of nostalgia? Can you watch it every time you see it playing and still enjoy it as much or more than the first time? Is a ritual watch each year at a special time? These reasons are often my criteria for favorite movies, although not necessarily great ones.

After the fifties it seemed as though the major studios were driving the bus.

The Hollywood star system was almost gone, but MGM held onto their box office success with the great musicals for many years.

Stars like Jane Powell, Howard Keel, Kathryn Grayson, Grace Kelly, Frank Sinatra, Debbie Reynolds, Cyd Charisse, Ann Miller, Esther Williams, Bing Crosby and Gene Kelly and Fred and Ginger still sang and danced across the now much larger screens.

The formula continued to be successful with Marilyn Monroe, Jane Russel and Doris Day joining in a big way.

Studios always prided themselves with being able to blend in with the public’s tastes and lifestyle of the times.

However, many flopped worse than the Edsel.

Remakes of favorite movies create comparison by ardent fans who reject messing with a cherished film.

Sometimes studios in their desire to grab some cash push the envelope too far as in Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny.

They have also discovered that combining a big box office star with a bad script isn’t a guarantee of success. In fact, it usually backfires.

Hello, Hudson Hawk and Ishtar!

If you don’t believe movies are a personal moment between an audience and the celluloid, just ask a room full of people to name their favorite holiday movie, Hitchcock film or Star Wars episode. Now of course the Avengers series also has fans arguing about which in the series is number one.

I am going to share my besties hoping you agree with some of my choices. They are varied and many hold a special memory for me as I’m sure yours do as well. I hope you’ll share yours with me and my readers. Of course this isn’t all of them, I’m certain I’ll remember at least ten more after I publish this blog, but it will suffice.

Some of my tops in no particular order are: Gentleman’s Agreement, While You Were Sleeping, Weekend at Bernie’s, The Producers with Zero Mostel, The Big Chill, We’re No Angels, Miracle on 34th Street,  The In Laws with Falk and Arkin, The Treasure of Sierra Madre, Life of Brian, Dirty Dozen, Mad Mad Mad Mad World, Major League, Trading Places, A Date WIth Judy, A Christmas Story, Pocketful of Miracles, The Wizard of Oz, Network, The Horn Blows at Midnight, any Sherlock Holmes with Basil Rathbone, The Equalizer series with Denzel, Adventures of Robin Hood, Footsteps in the Dark, most Neil Simons, The Razor’s Edge with Tyrone Power, James Bond with Connery,  all Hitchcock, Fred and Ginger, The Thin Man, Dirty Harry, Doris and Rock, Two For the Road, any Cary Grant and Cotton Comes to Harlem,

I hope you agree with my choices and I’d love to hear yours. I’m sure I forgot many and if so, please chime in.

Happy movie viewing everyone. I hope they all spark some wonderful memories for you.

How a Sorting Hat Could Manage Painful Memories

How a Sorting Hat Could Manage Painful Memories 

The other day a friend was amazed by my memory. She couldn’t get over how I remembered so many things from so many years ago. I realized long ago my mind was merely a clearinghouse for trivia and useless information, but I’ve found a way to appreciate having a sense of recall, although at a much slower pace now. As I like to say my computer takes longer to reboot.

However more and more of late I’ve questioned whether or not a good memory is a positive or negative feature. Is it good to be able to remember so many facts and figures and replay old memories at a moment’s notice? Especially when lately I can’t remember what I walked in the room to get from one second to another?

I think any Harry Potter fan is aware of that magical wonder called the sorting hat. It was used when one enters Hogwarts to determine in which house the student will reside. So if the sorting hat is so smart maybe it can help me with my memories.

When someone reaches the “golden years,” (that phrase always cracks me up) there are certainly far too many memories to recall. Some we try to call upon and others seem to flash into our minds with no warning, like a bird into an airplane engine. With I’m afraid the same unfortunate result.

I need the sorting hat to ensure the unwanted memories don’t slip through the cracks and attack what was otherwise a pleasant day. 

With the help of the sorting hat the remembrances we would not elect to keep could be sent off to a special part of our brain to remain stored away.

Lately I’ve become acquainted with a new term, grief dreams. They are the strange dreams we have after a loss of someone close. I thought I was losing my mind when I awakened every morning thinking what was that about until I learned a close friend who’s recently also lost her sibling was also experiencing them.

We have no control over what we dream so while sleeping and faced with vivid dreams about our loved ones we cannot stop any painful results. Yet when we’re awake I’d hope we’d be able to restrain our thoughts. But as usual when believing I have some power over my life, I was wrong.

Wasn’t it Hamlet who famously said, “for in that sleep of death what dreams may come must give us pause.”

Well I’d like to pause these recollections from invading my space.

Anyone who has ever known me will tell you I’ve always believed humor was a cure for all ills. Now at this age I see how wrong I was. There are some circumstances where a laugh is not up to the task and loss is one of these times. 

Memories have a mind of their own. They must populate a place in our brain where there are no fences or door with locks. This makes them capable of rushing out to play whenever they wish. 

A sorting hat would put a lid on their freedom. A childhood memory of my brother and I with my grandfather could not simply attack me while I’m driving in the car and singing along with my favorite song. Or when I’m in the shower rinsing the shampoo from my hair and suddenly there’s a memory coming at me full force and I’m sobbing instead of making my grocery list.

I believe it’s difficult when one loses your parents and becomes no one’s child any longer. 
Now I have lost the moniker of sister. Yes, I still have one brother, but it doesn’t seem the same. I was a sister to two and now… Why should these labels matter at all actually, especially when we’re older and yet… Does time heal all wounds or is that a fantasy we embrace to pretend the pain will eventually stop?

I know these memories I seem to be castigating are actually a necessary part of our lives and we need them those who are gone nearby. So as painful as it is, I know in the end remembering is a good thing. To recall happy moments is vital even though when a wound is fresh the happy may actually seem painful. 

Friends who have experienced loss say it gets easier with time and eventually thoughts that are now causing pain will bring a smile. I wouldn’t doubt that is true, but right now a sorting hat seems like a very good idea. Perhaps it could choose to let through the ones that might cause the least hurt and save the other memories for when I’m a bit stronger and able to handle them.

Some recollections will always cause a pang of pain.

Whether a cruel remark from a classmate, a break up or even a disappointment the marks of these experiences seem to leave scars. In time we learn to form some type of defense against them, but loss that’s a tough one.

The finality of losing a loved becomes more real as time goes by. And each memory opens the scar again. 

Memories keep someone alive and that’s what we want. It just seems sorrow is a high price to pay.

But would we rather forget? I think not. For in the end we are all well aware of the fact no sorting hat, no forgetfulness can hide the truth…we need to keep the people we love close to us and reminiscences accomplish that. And no hurt or tears could ever be too high a price to pay.

This Getting Old is Really Getting Old!

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I’m really not one to complain, unless of course, someone is listening.

Okay, so I really need to stop answering my phone.

The other day I learned that two people I know died, one of my best friends in having surgery and the world is coming to an end on January fifth, 2088.

Since the world has ended numerous times in my lifetime that one is not really an issue, but this picking up the phone and finding out people are sick and dying really has to end.

Oh I know there is no way to stop the Grim Reaper. He does know where you are at all times, so I guess he’s the GPS for humanity. And there’s no blocking or turning off his signal.

Once upon a time long ago I actually got out of bed in the morning without stopping three times to check and see why parts of me weren’t cooperating in the effort. Now it’s a slow and painful process. When I actually make contact with the floor, it’s not exactly like a kiss from Prince Charming, and my feet spend at least the next five minutes complaining bitterly until they give up and just settle into a low hum of pain for the rest of the day.

Being from Detroit I know of what I speak. Just like cars are planned for obsolescence so are people. None of us is built to last forever, even if we are built Ford Tough.

Sure, you say, some people are full of piss and vinegar right up till the end, and to that I say bull crap. Even if one cultivates a good attitude toward aging, as we get older we are all just schlepping through life looking for replacement parts as we go.

I now know very few people that are not bionic in some form; new knees, valves, hips, stints,

shoulders and even wrists are as available as a sucked-up, tucked-up blond in a room full of ninety-year-old millionaires.

Dentures have been replaced with implants, hair plugs have it all over toupees and women tattoo their eyebrows on. It’s a world of new tech, new times and new inventions to keep us believing we are not actually aging.

Aha! Don’t be fooled because your body is laughing all the way to the plastic surgeon’s office. “Forget the neck lift,” it is saying. “I have a whole new hip in store for you soon.”

I know women who scotch tape their necks for an instant lift. I am thinking of inventing flesh colored duct tape to hold up my touchas every day. Bet it would sell great.

The newest great invention seems to be adult underwear, aka diapers. Oh sure they’ve disguised them with pretty little designs and flowers, but honey we all know they are Pampers 2.0. I thought that was the nursing home wardrobe. What’s the hurry to start wearing plastic panties? A few flowers and I’m supposed to get excited about this new lingerie? Ooh, I feel sexy.

Even though we look like we’re twenty years younger thanks to Botox, fillers, lifts and medical magic, inside our bodies are decaying faster than Senor Happy tooth in a sea of Godiva chocolate.

So what is there to do to reverse the aging process?

We could call Harry Potter to bring his wand, but I am too far gone for that. Magic can only go so far.

Some hang at the gym and believe they can walk faster than Father Time, thus beating him to the punch. Okay, I’m game.

I’m here at the gym and it’s very foreign to me. I’m not sure what language they’re speaking in this strange new land. Just a minute I can catch one word here, downward dog. Yes, I know that one; it’s a Yoga term. It means squatting like a dog until your toes break off on the mat. I remember even trying that once. Couldn’t walk for a week.

Just a second someone is climbing on a treadmill and wait he’s setting the incline. I thought just walking a straight line was enough of a challenge. Damn the man’s walking up hill. I’m getting heart flutters just watching him. I need to find somewhere to sit.

I feel the duct tape on my ass coming lose and I think I should go into the bathroom to fix it. If it falls off as I’m walking that would be embarrassing. Damn a piece is hanging out from under my shorts. I knew I should have worn spandex. I’ll just wrap the towel around my bottom and walk slowly.

Oy, they’re all looking at me now. Damn that man is cute and now he thinks I’m some kind of freak who walks around with a towel covering my tush.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I think my retail cardio is better. I’m going to the mall and walk around shopping for an hour or two. Who needs this when I can just park a little farther away from the door and burn off those extra calories? Plus, I know the language there better.

Sale, twenty off today, escalator, food court; these are words I can work with and feel comfortable around.

Okay, don’t start writing letters and leaving nasty comments on social media, I know exercise is valuable as one ages, but fun? I don’t think so! If it were designed to be fun it would contain some type of chocolate as part of the process.

I think getting old is difficult because it creeps up on us like a Hari Krishna at the airport. You never see it coming until it’s too late and the wrinkles are there, staring back at you, smirking because they crossed the finish line while you simply blinked.

There is a way to avoid the sight if you stop using the devil’s favorite invention: the magnifying mirror. I’m sure he’s proud of that one. God took pity on us and made our eyesight worse as we get older, thereby not seeing wrinkles. Oh, but the devil said, “what a great opportunity to do evil.” and there you have it. You will notice that a Nobel Prize was never awarded for that invention.

I have never heard one person I know say, “I expected this getting old thing to happen sooner. What took so long?”

Nope, it’s more like, “when the hell did this happen? I never saw it coming. Yesterday I was young and swinging in the backyard with my kids, and now there is some strange, old person staring back at me in the mirror.”

I know we all would rather be here than somewhere else, destination unknown, but the journey always seems so short looking back.

I have no answers except maybe the duct tape if I can perfect it, but I guess we all have to be grateful to be here to complain and check out the new crop of wrinkles. If you find the fountain of youth, send me a map and I’ll pass it along to my readers. Until then, think young, stay young, enjoy life and throw away that damn-magnifying mirror.