Renting Movies

I've been renting some movies recently. This was because of the "break" the networks gave us between the holidays. First off, I don't need a fucking break! And secondly, I don't need a fucking break! But, since I had one I rented some movies.

It really doesn't matter what I rented because it is mostly dreck, anyway. But I have noticed something else that would annoy a sleeping cat. The WARNING statements. Every DVD you rent (and I assume purchase) has warning statements at the beginning of the discs.

The first one says that under federal and international law it is illegal to make unauthorized copies of the movie I just lawfully rented and that I am subject to a 5 year imprisonment and a $250,000 fine.

It's bad enough that I am sitting in my own living room, settled into my recliner, a bowl of popcorn on my lap and an adult beverage on the end table, and the makers of the movie feel the need to metaphorically kick down my front door and terrorize me with fines and jail terms for legally renting a probably dreadful movie, but then, they keep the damn warning on the screen for-EVER. You can't skip it or fast forward or anything. You just have to sit there and endure the potential legal wrath of the entire film industry. It is worse than trying to get from your car to the airplane unmolested.

But it is the second warning that gets me the most. It explains that any commentary or opinions found on the aforementioned DVD are not necessarily those of the makers of this dreck and they are not even sure how they got on the disc. This warning, too, is on the screen until it is seared into your brain.

Now, don't these two warnings sound a little schizophrenic to you? On the one hand they are saying, "Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!" And on the other hand they are saying, "What movie?" In other words they want full credit for a product for which they claim no responsibility.

That sounds a little like my wife's attitude about me during cocktail parties.



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Those Lowdown Mornin' After Blues

The thing about the "day after" is that it is inevitable. Unless your party results in your untimely death or a "mad scientist" experiment results in the total displacement of Quizzno's Fourth Law of Toppings -- life will go on.

You can party your ass off today and Blockbuster still wants their DVD's tomorrow. You can shop till you drop (literally) and the credit card bills will come in tomorrow. You can wear a lampshade tonight and they still won't be laughing tomorrow. Booze is no excuse. It only makes tomorrow worse.

What is worse than inevitable? Inevitable with consequences. Like re-seeding the front lawn where you parked the SUV the night before. Like facing the Sales Department after one of them won your panties in a card game. Or facing the boss after you threw his toupee in the punchbowl. Or knowing you had a moment with your mother-in-law but not being able to remember the details.

Morning Afters can be fun if you don't suffer from hangovers (like me). Watching people mumble "hello"s and "g'mornin'"s; keeping their faces buried in their coffee cups, afraid to make eye contact for fear of having to talk about what they did or sometimes couldn't do the night before. Banging pots and pans and cheerful banter are always funny the morning after.

But, usually by the time the first ballgame is under way, the headaches have receded, the queasiness is gone and the beers and snacks are passed around, everyone is laughing again and only the women are remembering the stolen moments from the night before and are plotting the course of the new year.

So may this first morning after of this new year find you properly hung over, duly embarrassed and slightly fearful of never knowing the full story of last night.

Happy New Year!

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The Winter of Our Discontent

Well, this is the time of year when we all pause to reflect. To think about the things that have happened during the past year and to hope for better things in the coming one.

A time of self examination. And a time to assess the world around us. A time to raise our heads above the niches we have carved for ourselves and see what else is going on in the world. A time of quiet contemplation. A time to reconnect with our loved ones.

It is Winter Holiday TV Hiatus time.

A time when none of our regular TV shows are on. A time when networks burn off the loser shows that have been yanked during the regular season. A time of Holiday Specials that were lame-o when we first saw them 35 years ago.

A time of egg-nog, fruit cake and Aunt Martha. Knitted sweaters, neck ties and cheap perfume. But, mostly, nothing on TV. Why do you think the suicide rate is so high around the holidays? Karl Marx called religion "the opiate of the masses." Well, TV is the new opiate and people need their fix. With nothing on from December 18 until January 8, what else is left for these lonely people?

We have lost all of our communication skills. We have disconnected from society. We have dutifully been pulled into an intellectual stupor caused by bombastic advertising and mind numbingly stupid reality shows.

And now, they drop us cold-turkey. Are we just supposed to walk around like everything is normal and right with the world? Well, it isn't! And it won't be until Jack Bauer is back for another day. Until the gangs from Lost and Heroes return to suck us into their continuing stories that never resolve anything.

So take this time to reflect; to contemplate where your favorite shows have been and where you hope them to go. Try to avoid eye contact with visiting relatives and act like you care about that new bathrobe. But on these long, silent nights when our souls yearn for anything to watch, try not to think too hard about the gas oven or that bottle of sleeping pills.

Your friends will return. It will get better. And until then -- there is always Blockbuster.

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