Are you there God? It's me, Grandma

The past two weeks have been filled with distress over a situation with one of my (to remain unnamed) daughters. I go to sleep praying about the mess, wake up praying about the mess, have prayers about the mess taking up lots of space in my brain, my heart.

I keep praying and praying without seeing much in terms of answers ... yet (I hope). I told the daughter in question that all the praying is wracking my brain and it sure would be nice if I could simply send God an e-mail with a "READ Receipt" attached so I'd at least know the prayers were under consideration.

I told Jim the same thing. To which he replied, "Yeah, just like in Bruce Almighty."

I'd forgotten about Bruce Almighty. Maybe it's another example of my memory fritzing out here and there, or maybe it's because I don't really care much for Jim Carrey. Once Jim mentioned it, though, I remembered. And I couldn't help but search for a clip of exactly how the e-mail to God thing worked ... at least in the movies.

This video -- for which I have only a link because it's copyrighted and embedding is disabled -- is what I found, what I remembered, what I kinda sorta long for. So go ahead: Take a look at this Bruce Almighty answers e-mailed prayers scene. I'll wait the minute-and-a-half it takes to watch it.

Ya back? Good. See, that is what would be oh-so wonderful, oh-so helpful.

Well, except for one thing. In the video, God/Bruce/Jim Carrey simply says "Yes" to all the requests in one fell click of the mouse. But that would never work in reality. For most things -- including the situation causing me such distress -- not everyone praying about it is praying for the same outcome. Even when it comes to praying for world peace, I'm pretty darn sure there's some folks somewhere wishing only to be the ones to win. When it comes to ending pain and suffering in the world, well, we all have different theories on how to do that, what to pray for, and some of those theories likely conflict with the theories of others. Even when it comes to praying to win the lotto (not that anyone I know does that), it obviously wouldn't work to say "Yes" to all those praying for the big bucks.

Bottom line: Bruce Almighty's simple "Yes" simply won't work.

The real God, though, I'm pretty sure he could figure out a way to make it work. Which is why I want a direct connection, a valid e-mail address to the real God. I could zap out my concerns and send them on their way.

Of course, if such a thing did exist, there'd naturally be a "READ receipt requested" option. I would choose that option, and upon receiving the receipt, then I'd know my request was under consideration.

Then I'd know I could stop praying about it, stop worrying about it.

If only things worked like they do in the movies.

Photo courtesy stock.xchng

Today's question:

What is your favorite Jim Carrey movie? (HA! And you thought I was going to ask something about God, didn't you!?)

The grandma I will never be

Jim and I went to see the Leonardo DiCaprio movie Inception yesterday. The movie looked intriguing (and proved to be that and more!) but the prospect of sitting in an air-conditioned theater during the hottest point of the day was the true lure for us. We needed to escape the heat of our NOT air-conditioned house.

Ironically, things heated up quite a bit inside the air-conditioned theater as we waited for the show to begin. Especially for one grandma who grew unreasonably hot under the collar when two women -- late arrivals seeking seats in the packed house just before the previews started -- dared to ask Grandma to scoot down a seat.

Let me stop right here and say that Jim and I always arrive pretty early to see a movie, just to be sure we get end seats, on the aisle. Jim likes to sit on the end; we plan accordingly. So any time one of the theater staff come into a packed house and ask everyone to scoot toward the middle to create empty seats for late arrivals, we don't budge. We got there early; they got there late. Next time maybe they'll better manage their time.

So yesterday, Jim and I were situated in our end seats, with an empty seat between myself and Grandma's movie-watching partner. There was one more empty seat in the row, about five people beyond Grandma.

"Would you mind scooting down a seat so it would open up two seats for us to sit together?" one of the late women -- a 50-something, clean, well-spoken woman -- very politely asked our row of folks.

"Sure, sure, no problem," pretty much everyone mumbled as they started gathering their goodies and preparing to scoot down one. Everyone, that is, except Grandma.

"I like to sit here so I can put my feet up," Grandma said.

"Pardon?" the polite seat-scoot requester said as the 20-somethings next to Grandma leaned toward her to see if they, too, heard Grandma correctly.

"I like to put my feet up," Grandma reiterated in clipped tones as she white-knuckled her seat and refused to move.

Incredulous, the woman requesting the musical chairs simply said, "Real nice ...." and motioned to her partner that they would need to proceed to the front-row, neck- and eye-straining seats.

Most everyone else in our row clucked a "tsk, tsk" and shook their heads as they resumed their original positions. All while self-righteous Grandma faced forward, ignoring the head shaking.

The sad thing is, if Grandma had simply taken a moment to assess the situation rather than being hell-bent on staying in the seat she'd chosen, she'd have realized that all she and her friend needed to do was scoot down one seat in the other direction, toward me, and she'd still be able to rest her feet on the bar in front of her -- saving face and her tootsies while providing two seats together at the other end of the row, leaving everyone happy and cool and things right with the world.

But no, she refused the consideration, sat strong and firm. She was going to get off her butt for no one, no time, no way. In her own mind, I'm sure, she figured she sure taught that late-arriving woman and her companion a lesson in getting someplace on time in order to get what you want.

What she really did, though, was teach those of us witnessing the rudeness what a real inconsiderate cuss looks like. A real inconsiderate cuss of a grandma, at that. A grandma I will never be. I will never be that rude, never be that cold, never ruin the experience for others simply because I jump the gun and refuse to consider other arrangements and staunchly, indignantly defend my position.

Of course I can say that because Jim and I always choose the aisle seats at the theater, so scooting in just one wouldn't make a difference for a couple or crowd. If anyone were to make such a request, we'd have to refuse ... politely ... and kindly wonder aloud what good one seat would do for two or more needing a spot.

Now if there were an empty seat next to me and one late arrival asked us ever so politely to scoot in and let him or her sit on the end ... well ... I gotta admit that we'd still have to refuse.

But we'd do it politely and -- unlike the Grandma at Inception -- consider other options, offering the lone movie-goer the seat right beside me. No, not on the aisle, but, yes, here is a seat, no scooting required.

And no snottiness necessary. Unlike yesterday's cuss of a grandma, the grandma I swear I will never, ever be. Unless ...

... unless a fellow movie-goer talks or texts during a movie. If that's your thing, I'm warning you now: You better simply shut 'er off and slink away. I still swear to not act like the non-scooting grandma. I'll be worse. Way worse.

For sometimes a grandma's just gotta teach folks a lesson or two. Politeness be cussed.

Today's question:

Where is your favorite spot to sit in the movie theater?

Two thumbs up

As I've mentioned before, we are a movie-going family. We love movies and we love going to them together, sharing the cinematic experience.

Bubby went to his first movie with me and Jim (and Megan and Preston, of course) when he was just days old. We saw "Wanted" with Angelina Jolie. He did great: no crying, no screaming, no fussing. Grandma didn't do as well. "Wanted" is an insanely loud film, with gunfire, explosions and more, and I spent the entire time worrying that we had made a huge mistake in taking Bubby with us and that we'd ruined our brand-new grandson's hearing beyond repair. But he seems to have done just fine with it and (as usual) my fears were unfounded.

We also took Bubby to his second movie: "The Dark Knight." Again, it was a loud movie. But as he was just one year old, he did okay with it, pretty much sleeping through the whole thing. I do believe Megan had to do a little walking around with him, but nothing outrageous, nothing to curb the movie going.

So we took him again. To see the last "Indiana Jones" movie. No major problems there. Bubby seemed to do quite well with the adult fare. Although from that point on, Bubby hasn't joined us -- or his parents -- for a film. Common sense prevailed over our movie fanaticism, and we didn't want to reach a point where Bubby would actually cry during a movie and upset other viewers who had paid a high price to watch a big show on the big screen.

This past weekend, while Jim and visited for Bubby's second birthday, we decided to forego the adult fare and give Bubby a shot at seeing a film on his level ... with popcorn and all ... and trillions of other kids in attendence. We went to see "Toy Story 3". And Bubby loved it!

He patiently awaited the beginning of "the big show," sitting nice and tall --and quiet -- in his booster seat:

Once the big show began, he watched ... and watched ... and watched ...

... until he didn't want to watch anymore. But in all fairness, his antsy-pants didn't kick in until about 15 minutes before the movie ended. And he had Grandpa to visit when the antsy-pants kept him from sitting in his seat.

All in all, Bubby's first real movie-going experience was a success. This final scene says it all:

Yep, a true success! 

Next up: subtitles! He's already such an advanced movie-goer that I don't see it being long before subtitled fare is on the bill.

Looks like we'll be keeping this kid in the family!

Today's question:

What's the first movie you remember seeing at the theater or drive-in?

My answer: "Benji" on a school field trip.

Pivotal pics

Brianna and her boyfriend, David, came for dinner Sunday and conversation turned, as it often does, to movies -- what we've seen, what we can't wait to see, movies we've loved, movies we were scared by. Because David is a relative newcomer to the family, our movie mania probably made it seem like we all do nothing but watch movies. We do other things ... occasionally ... but movies are a large part of who we are.

Since that dinner conversation, I've been thinking about how movies really are a big part of my life, have often helped form the person I am.

In that vein, I've come up with a list of movies that have had great impact on my life ... so far:

Lisa's 12 Pivotal Films

Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella (1965) -- Not a theatrical release but a made-for-television production that aired each Thanksgiving for many years so, to me, it signalled the beginning of the holiday season. It's the first show I remember being my escape from the turmoil we called family, especially as it reached fever pitch during the holidays. It also may be responsible for my obsession with chairs; I've collected lots and lots of chairs in my house in search of THE one to go with the lyrics "in my own little corner in my own little chair ...".

The Birds (1963) -- Scared the hell out of me as a child and set the bar for my lifelong taste in scary movies: lots of suspense with minimal gore.

Doctor Zhivago (1965) -- Omar Shariff ... need I say more? Except that this one set the bar for my taste in romance films: heartbreak, heartbreak and more heartbreak.

A Star is Born (1976) -- The first movie I wanted to see again and again and again. It also was the first movie to which I bought the soundtrack ... and was deeply disappointed upon learning that movie soundtracks didn't include the dialogue. I loved (loved!) the songs, but had hoped to relive the film again and again as if listening to a radio production.

The Elephant Man (1980) -- I saw this film as part of a psychology class field trip. The teacher, Mr. Marr, was the man I admired most in the whole entire world at that point. After the movie, Mr. Marr cried in front of the class as he lamented the horrors endured by John Merrick, most of which were inflicted by society. Mr. Marr's tears were my first lesson in what true empathy looks like.

Christianne F. [Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Zoo] (1981) -- It was my turn to pick the movie for girls' night out and I picked a gloomy foreign flick about a teen drug addict living in Berlin. My first subtitled movie ... and the last time I got to pick the movie for girls' night out. I still enjoy offbeat foreign films.

The Big Chill (1983) -- I was recently married and scared and disillusioned about being a grown up. This film made it clear that everyone is scared and disillusioned about being a grown up ... and that it all works out okay if you've got the right soundtrack.

Terms of Endearment (1983) -- Shirley MacLaine begging for pain meds for Debra Winger ... Debra Winger saying goodbye to her sons ... . Oh. My. Gosh! Motherhood at its most heart wrenching.

The English Patient (1996) -- Affected me much like Doctor Zhivago, only this time I was an adult -- and still a fan of heartbreak, heartbreak, and more heartbreak. Plus, Ralph Fiennes ... need I say more?

Boys Don't Cry (1999) -- This absolutely broke my heart, so much so that I was impelled to make my girls watch it. They really probably weren't old enough for its graphic violence and theme but I wanted them to see what sheer hate can do in hopes of warning them against ever associating with anyone carrying -- and acting upon -- such hate.

Amelie (2001) -- Brought the realization that foreign films aren't just gloom and doom but can be light and lovely. Also, the first subtitled film I made the girls watch ... and they adored it (which redeemed me a bit for the forced viewing of "Boys Don't Cry").

Moulin Rouge (2001) -- The only movie that, as an adult, I watched again and again ... in a row ... in one weekend. Four times in one weekend, to be exact. I thought I was a much more seasoned film-goer than that. But with heartbreak, heartbreak, and more heartbreak plus song and dance, how could I possibly resist?

Today's question:

What are some of your pivotal films?