…I hate when this happens.
I start watching a movie thinking it’s a typical Lifetime Movie thing–predictable, sugary, great background for real work because I don’t have to pay attention–then BAM Andy Garcia’s teenage son kills himself and I’m thrust into a gripping tale with real actors and good plot.
WTF?Ã‚Â The little blurb that the cable company supplied said nothing…never even hinted there was a son involved in the plot, let a one one too saddened to go on with life.
The boy kept reappearing in Garcia’sÃ‚Â mind throughout…huge soulful eyes…telling dad he was sorry.Ã‚Â GAAAAHHH!
Who exactly writes those things?Ã‚Â The blurbs?
This happens to me every once in a while.Ã‚Â Sometimes it’s my fault.Ã‚Â For instance, about ten years ago or so when Bill and I were married but living in separate towns, I did a lot of stuff by myself.
I loved going to movies.Ã‚Â It cheered me up immensely for some reason.
Anyway, one typical Pittsburgh day (rainy) in between classes and assignments, I settled in for a movie.Ã‚Â A cute little thing that takes place in Las Vegas and features a hooker and a drunk.Ã‚Â A light little thing.Ã‚Â Nicholas Cage is funny.Ã‚Â Elizabeth Shue is…what?Ã‚Â Good at playing dark, sad, lonely hookers,Ã‚Â managing to portray the characterÃ‚Â as just like you and me in many ways.Ã‚Â Who knew?Ã‚Â She was Andrew Shue’s sister for God sakes.Ã‚Â The Shue with the Melrose Place address.Ã‚Â How informed does a movie goer need to be?
That’s right, Leaving Las Vegas was the flick of choice.Ã‚Â It sounded like such a fun movie.
Upon leaving, IÃ‚Â wasÃ‚Â forced to theÃ‚Â pharmacy for paxil and a bag of oreos…I mean, who could drink after seeing that?