There Are Two Kinds Of Movie Fans.

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After much thought (about 10 seconds while brushing my teeth) I have determined that there are two kinds of movie fans in this world. I think you might agree.

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The first group are those who worship/adore/own-the-dvd of The Princess Bride. These people know who killed who’s father, the name of the kingdom, etc. They use the metaphors and analogies in their analysis of every book, every other movie, and in the approach they take to their lives. Here’s the trailer:

The second group, the one to which I belong, knows what it means when you say, “Mongo only pawn in game of life.”

Yessir, I’m the Blazing Saddles kind of guy. The movie is in bad taste, has overt sexual themes, flatulence jokes, racist terminology, pot jokes… the list goes on. But it’s a great movie for teenage boys – and that’s who I was when it came out.

I recently watched The Princess Bride for the first time. It was good. Nice movie, nice way to spend an afternoon. I watched Blazing Saddles the other night. Good thing I wasn’t trying to eat or drink, the laughter and tears would have taken me down in a choking fit.

I love strange things, and Mel Brooks was the king of them in his prime. I know all the dialogue to Young Frankenstein. I’m working on it with Blazing Saddles. I can, much to my wife’s chagrin, crack the whip in perfect time to the theme song. I like to laugh and Mel Brooks appeals the the inner me – a Three Stooges addict with a college degree.

You may turn your nose up at the vulgarity of Blazing Saddles. You may not like the point of the movie (that racists are stupid.) You may not even like the cast. Wait, that last one isn’t possible. Madeline Kahn alone is worth the trip to the movie. Beautiful, funny, sharp – she was at her peak in Mel Brooks’ movies. So, you didn’t like the plot or vulgarity. That’s cool. It’s not for everyone. That’s the beauty of this medium of entertainment: you can turn it off when you want.

For the fans of The Princess Bride: I see why you enjoy your movie.

For the fans of Blazing Saddles: let’s get a bowl of dip, some chips and watch it again. It’s been at least 72 hours.

Sunday Is The Day To Endorse Charities Around Here

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I want to hit this one final time for the benefit of Healing Haiti and those of you in the Twin Cities that want to learn CPR.

In all seriousness, the CPR class noted below is a great idea. Only 6 days left to fit it into your plans for the new year. Look at the flyer and see if this fits into your plans. I’m planning on attending!

This is the best deal going for really learning CPR, and it benefits a great charity.

This is the best deal going for really learning CPR, and it benefits a great charity.

That’s it – move along, nothing more to see here – but I’ll see some of you at CPR training next Saturday.

I’d Like A Cheesburger: Hold The Onions.

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It’s not every day that I write one of these that I know will make my mother cry. So, in advance, Mom – it’s okay.

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A friend died on New Year’s Day. Her name is Connie Oace. I count her as a friend because she was more than a friend’s mom. Her children, Chris and Vicki, have been my friends for many years.

Connie Oace

Connie Oace

Connie got dragged into the friendship mess somewhere along the way. I’m not really sure when all of them became part of my extended family and circle, but inside “the ring” they are going to stay.

Connie was never quite sure what to do with me. I perplexed her in that I was a big barbarian (all of the Oace tribe are rather diminutive folks) with outspoken conservative views. She was pretty much the polar opposite. The fact that I would rationally discuss things with her (not possible with Chris – he needs a smack sometimes) and laugh at the stupidity of people who don’t think their positions through on either side seemed to gain me some trust and credence.

I would see her at baseball games, parties, church events (she displayed her work one time in a church and my wife and I went to view the exhibit) and other assorted venues. I would always give Connie a wide berth if I saw her coming down the road – she was as rotten a driver as she was a sweet person. I suspect Connie cut me a wide swath on occasion as well. But she always lit up when I saw her. And I lit up as well.

There are gentle souls you encounter in this life who leave you a little perplexed. Connie never left me perplexed. In awe, wondering how I got so lucky as to know her and her kids, and suspicious of her radio set in the attic she used to contact Moscow during the Cold War. Not really. I kidded her family about that over the years and it’s a great story that will be told some day. Heck, I doubt she even knew Morse code.

Connie will be missed. She leaves behind a pair of children who I count as siblings. Halvor, her husband, went on ahead decades ago. I was honored to be a pall bearer when he checked out. She also leaves behind a daughter-in-law, two grandchildren, and more friends and admirers than most people will ever number. Please keep them all in your prayers today. The roads will be safer, but the rest of the planet will be diminished.

My generation is now at the point where we’ve almost all buried one parent. I talked to my friends this evening and Chris told me that he was bringing mom to breakfast. I had to laugh. He’s going to pick up the remains and will have them with him when we all get together tomorrow morning. One last time for the four of us. The day I picked up my dad’s remains I stopped at McDonalds and grabbed lunch. It had been a long day and I was hungry. I ordered two cheesburgers without onions for my father. That’s how he liked them. They were mighty hard to chew with the tears in my eyes.

Thanks for the memories, Connie. See you at breakfast.

Loyalty Means Lying On The Rug And Watching Her Sleep.

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I have had occasion in my life to think that dealing with dogs is infinitely preferable to dealing with some of the people I’ve been stuck with in different places. I had finally overcome that a few years ago and elevated people to the level of dogs.

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Watching over the flock.

Watching over the flock.

The last few days verified that decision. I have been amazed, overawed, overjoyed, and overcome with the outpouring of love and prayer that came from all of you, and my Facebook family, in regard to my wife and her surgery. I should not forget work friends, and most of all, blood-kin. Yup, all of you have kept her lifted up in prayer.

But there is a little dog that deserves special mention: Stormy. She was nuts when we got home from the hospital. I really suspect some kind of link between our dogs and the humans in this house. I’m not that perceptive, but on several occasions I’ve taken a dog to the vet and the other one was damaged or upset by the illness or loss of their friend. I could see it the minute I opened the door. This time around, Stormy was frantic when we got back from the hospital.

That trip was no different than if we’d gone for a morning at church. But the dog knew something was up. She was only good when she got a chance to check Kip out and make sure she was fine. Over the past two days the dog has kept her eye on Kip, often within arms length to make sure her hero is getting better.

Don’t get me wrong, the dog and I get along really well. But her full herding instinct/shepherd genetic makeup are in evidence at this moment. She just watches. Occasional trips to eat/poop/bark at enemies, but always back on watch within minutes. That makes two of us.

I’m blessed to have the friends and family in my life. I’m blessed that my wife is healing. And both of us are blessed that Stormy is there to watch over us. I’m totally in love with that: I need a keeper.