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stock up on tissues and fire up the DVD
July 15, 2008
I need to buy a jersey. For those five or six workdays a year, I mean. You probably know the ones I'm talking about. Forced socialization! Awkward jollity! Show your team spirit! You can wear jeans! (like that's such a treat on a day like today--93° in the shade.)
Anyway, I don't really support sports or any special teams. Sure, I wear a Green Bay Packers parka when it's thirty below, but that's because it is a cheap, lightweight, warm, windproof, machine-washable coat that FITS me.
I used to put up a pretty good front, and I'll admit it made me happy back in '05 when the ChiSox went all the way. But truly--it's not my thing.
Tell that to the corporate morale Nazis who damn well expect you to show willing when they decree an arbitrary festivity day, though.
So I need a jersey or a shirt or something. One that will fit in with the spirit of the occasion, yet truly represent ME.
I'm thinking this.
So, anyway. It was that day today. Which, if thay have to do it, is fine. Tuesdays are the suckiest day of the week anyway--mighta as well pile more on.
At least I got a free lunch out of it. And something non-disgusting, for a change. A real Chicago dog. Viena Beef, Rosen's MaryAnn buns, celery salt, sport peppers--The Chicago native on the party committee put her foot down and insisted on authenticity. Bless her ever-lovin' heart.
Yesterday's mention of tearjerkers sparked a conversation: what's your favorite "4-hankie weeper"? Mine is, as I mentioned, "Now, Voyager". Bette Davis, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, and Gladys Cooper--with Ilka Chase as the sympathetic sister-in-law. And the added attractions of Bonita "Nancy Drew" Granville and Mary "Dora, I suspect you're a treasure" Wickes.
Some would find that this is more of a big old sloppy romantic movie, but the conflicted relationship with the mother and the frank acknowledgement of depression ("nervous collapse" in the vernacular of the time) as a real, physiological illness usually sets off my triggers, and despite having seen it umpteen times, I can still cry buckets over it.
Anyway--an informal poll netted me this list of sad movies beloved by my coworkers:
Women my age or older:
Steel Magnolias
Beaches
Terms of Endearment
Love Story
Moulin Rouge
Women younger than me:
Rent
United 93
The Land Before Time
Titanic
ET
Ghost
Count me with the oldies, apparently. I've seen all five of their movies at least once. Well, maybe we shouldn't rush to count me on either list--I've seen them, but never found any of them to really be my cup of tea. I've only seen "Rent" and ET from the other list, but I liked both of them. Didn't love 'em, but liked 'em.
If I had to put together a quick list of--oh, say ten--really great tearjerkers, I'd have these, off the top of my head:
Now, Voyager (1942)
Brian's Song (1971)
Penny Serenade (1941)
Sophie's Choice (1982)
Random Harvest(1942)
The Way We Were(1973)
They Shoot Horses, Don't They? (1969)
Stella Dallas (1937)
Old Yeller (1957)
The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter(1968)
Can you tell I like movies with a patina of age on them?
Reading: "Tied Up In Tinsel", by Ngaio Marsh. I�m on page 189, and while the detective has finally made his appearance (page 129), we have yet to find a Body. Hey, when your name�s Ngaio Marsh, you don�t have to rush it.
Beading: Hiatus due to epicondylitis.
Surfing: London Times online. Jeremy Clarkson can be such a douche.
Listening: Endless chatter from co-workers today made my nerves too brittle even for headphones. Earplugs are the only answer sometimes.
At Random: click here
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