Friday, July 27, 2007

Crashy Doodle Dandy

My Crashy replacement has shipped. I'm looking for him on Monday or Tuesday. I won't know how to act, what with being able to listen to music and traipse about the internet at the same time! I need to put #1 son on the case to get all my stuff transferred off of Crashy. Oh, and I have to choose a name for my newbie.

Today we went to see that Simpsons movie. There was a good crowd for a 12:45 showing. My only complaint was with the usher who stood behind us for half the movie, making it hard to get the illicit snacks out of my giant floppy purse. The #2 son begged for his Cookie Dough Bites, and couldn't understand why we had to wait to get them out. The #1 son watched that usher like a hawk, and pounced on the purse the minute she left. I thought the usher's job was to walk around the theater to check on stuff, not stand and watch the movie.

The last time we went, a family came in just as the movie was starting (you know, after 20 minutes of commercials like that underwear "Apple of My Eye" thingy, plus 10 previews that show every good scene from the movie), towing Grandma With A Walker, and sat down about 7 rows from the back of the theater. The woman put Granny on the end, and said, "Your walker will be right here." Right here was in the aisle next to Granny's chair. I told my son I was amazed that they would let her block the aisle like that. Ahem. A teenage usherboy came in and whispered something to the woman. Next thing you know, she had to pack up Granny and the family and move them to the back row of 4 seats, where there was room for the walker without putting it in the aisle. It was in the space where you could park a Wheelchair Granny. Which is fine and good, except that the usherboy moved a family that had been there even before us, which had to be at least 30 minutes before show time, which was when the commercials started. That seems a bit unfair. They used to have wheelchair signs on those two short rows, designating them for the differently-abled. Now they are just regular seats. The bone I am picking is actually with Granny's family. They could have called ahead, or sent in part of the family early to get those seats. They didn't have to disrupt everybody's movie-watching to accommodate themselves.

Anyhoo...the Simpsons is rated PG13. I debated on taking my 9-year-old, but since he has been exposed to HH's naughty mouth, I figured I'd chance it. There were people there with little kids. Like 5 or 6. And let me tell you, this movie should have a warning of 'L' for language, and 'D' for doodle, because Bart shows his.

We stopped by The Devil's Playground on the way to the movie. Just to pick up a few necessities: movie candy, paper plates, toilet paper. No, we didn't take them all into the theater. In the parking lot of The Devil's Playground, I heard a voice calling, "Mrs. Hillbilly Mom!" No, it wasn't one of the regular voices in my head. It was a past student. One who had dropped out, but has since gotten his GED, a steady job, married, and had a baby. Actually, I'll give his wife credit for the last one. He was in the first class of DoNots that I had years ago, after switching from science teacher to at-risk teacher. It's nice to see them when they have become functioning members of society, rather than reading about them in the court cases in the local paper. He had his daughter on his hip, 4 months old, blond, blue-eyed, happy as a clam. She must take after her mother. He looked totally in love with that baby. Not in that way. It warmed my cold, cold heart a few degrees.

While in the movie, my cell phone vibrated, and #1 son dashed out to check on the call. He's the keeper of the phone. I don't know how to make it vibrate and ring. Dad-burned newfangled contraptions! Technology is not my friend. He just missed the call. It was my work neighbor. I couldn't stop watching the Simpsons to call her back, but I did after the movie. She'd had a mysterious call from an estranged colleague, but could never get an answer back during their phone tag tournament. Note To Mabel: the outrageous gossip item that has been floating around raised its head above water in a code-word puzzley kind of manner. She brought it up. Neither of us dared voice the rumor, nor mentioned our sources. Work Neighbor did profess to hearing it at the end of May. WTF? She's been holding out on us, Mabel. Ain't she a dandy? And us thinking we were so secretive about the issue. It's high time I get back into that building and put things in order again.

It's almost time for school to start, you know.

4 comments:

Stewed Hamm said...

Sounds like another rash of cat pictures will be occurring soon... So nefarious, that cat picture bandit.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Stewyoumakemewaxnostalgic,
I really miss Mr K. Not so much Mr K as the pranking of Mr K with cat pictures every day for a month.

Mommy Needs a Xanax said...

I hate it when they make you watch regular commercials at the movie theatre. When I'm at the movies, I want to see previews and Coke commercials-- not Fruit of the Loom commercials. The local ads that run before the previews and all that are kinda funny though. There's one here for a psychologist or psychiatrist who claims to be able to cure a myriad of conditions that sound completely made up. And he looks like a child molester. Not the kinda guy I'd want to trust with my mental well being.

Bart showed his doodle? Was it yellow?

Hillbilly Mom said...

Meanie,
It ain't right. They used to only show those Sprite commercials. We don't get any local ads. Just the Movieline Trivia thingy. If we're lucky, we get music with it.

Bart's doodle was indeed yellow. And so were his nuggets.