Anyhoo, about once a week during summer vacation, I pick one of my favorite movies to watch. You know the ones: you don’t have to be in any particular mood to watch them, they always make you feel better about life, and there may or may not be a guilty pleasure factor involved. (ie why I generally watch them when I’m alone at home…er, with the non-judgmental baby; although Dave actually doesn’t really seem to dislike any of mine. That, or he’s just really wicked nice.)
It’s no secret that I’m into old-school stuff. That being said, my favorites include “Little Women” (the ’90s version with Winona Ryder; Dave always asks, “Oh, the Katharine Hepburn one??” You’d think, since I’m a huge KH fan, but this one is just a lot better done and less melodramatic), “Since You Went Away” (what was I saying about melodrama??), “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”, “Adam’s Rib” or “Desk Set” (most Kate ‘n Spence movies work for me, but these two are the tops for me; still need “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” in our collection, though), “You Can’t Take it With You”, anything Shirley Temple, and even some traditionally holiday-oriented ones like “Holiday Inn” and “It’s a Wonderful Life”. Once in awhile a good documentary (anything presidential, thankyouverymuch) will do the trick, as well.
The weird thing about these viewing experiences is that, more often than not, given chasing around the munchkin or folding laundry or making lunch or any number of reasons, I often realize that the credits are rolling…and I’ve hardly watched a minute of the thing. I’m still experiencing it, considering that I’m listening (and oftentimes saying lines along with the actors), but I haven’t seen one beautiful scene. Dang.
So, last week, I forced myself to pay equal attention to the baby and the movie I chose — “Since You Went Away”. Of course I had to pick the longest movie in the mix (John Adams mini-series aside), but it was once the baby was down for his afternoon nap, it was nice to look more at the struggles, strength, and faith of the American homefront unfold than the laundry pile. Mind you, I still folded the laundry; I just made it a point to focus on the characters and the beauty of the scenes.
Man, was it lovely.
So, anyhoo, let me know — am I the only person who experiences this? Movie in (even if the baby’s down for the night), feet up…and 90 minutes later, you realize that movie amnesia hit and you don’t remember watching a minute of it?? *crossing my fingers that I’m not the only one*