Posted tagged ‘Suspension of disbelief’

“Food is the most primitive form of comfort.”

April 23, 2017

Weather is so relative that today’s 57˚ feels warm and springlike, a sit on the deck in the sun sort of day. I might even need sunglasses.

My sister in Colorado and I had our usual Sunday phone call. Today we found two hours worth of conversation ranging from potty training to Trump.

When I was a kid, I never spent much time on the phone. I remember the party line and Mrs. McGaffigan who shared the line. Sometimes I’d pick up the receiver and hear her voice and listen to her conversation: I’d eavesdrop. She caught me several times. I never said a word when she did. I just put the receiver down. My phone number started with ST 6. I used to love the sound of the rotary dial when it clicked back after I entered a number. The phone was black. I think all the phones back then were black.

I miss phone booths. Anytime I passed by one, I’d check the coin return. Once in a while, I’d be lucky enough to find a dime, big money back then. It never seemed strange to me that Clark Kent had room enough to change to Superman in a phone booth. I did wonder what he did with his clothes and why nobody noticed when he was changing. Maybe he was just too quick.

Back then, I didn’t know a single kid who was a skeptic. We accepted most things at face value. The movie monsters were scary. We never saw the strings propelling spacecraft. We accepted the odd looking aliens. We didn’t make fun of movies. We naturally suspended disbelief. I laugh now at those same movies, but I love them still.

Roast beef, gravy, mashed potatoes, and peas are my favorite meal. My mother cooked it for our last family dinner before I left for Peace Corps. She used to put slices of onion on top of the roast, and they were delicious. It is the best of all my comfort meals. I remember my mother peeling potatoes at the sink and my father carving the meat. I still count mashed potatoes and peas among my favorites. I don’t have roast beef all that much anymore. Roast chicken has replaced it and stuffing has been added as a side.

I don’t cook much for myself anymore. I’m into quick and easy, but I’ve found shortcuts for that chicken dinner. I buy rotisserie chicken, real, already mashed potatoes and frozen peas. I call that the modern interpretation of down home comfort food.

“Don’t Trust Blindly If in shark infested waters, don’t assume the fin coming toward you is a dolphin.”

July 30, 2016

I apologize for the lateness of the hour, but my computer is acting up, and it wouldn’t load. I am using my iPad in the interim.

The day is a pretty one with sunshine, blue skies and only a little humidity. My windows are open. It is getting hotter so I’m thinking the air will be back on shortly. Gracie is panting, a sure sign of heat.

I actually have an entry in my date book. Tonight I’m going to my friends’ house for burgers. I figure it will also be a game night.

I’m back on my computer. It finally loaded.

It has been a while since I’ve been to the movies. I watch TV or Netflix or Infinity, but the new Star Trek movie is tempting me to the theater. I’ll have to pick a beach day so there will be very few people willing to give up the sun for a dark theater and expensive popcorn.  I sneak in my own candy. I’m a Thin Mints fan and sometimes Good and Plenty. The last time I went to the theater I also sneaked in cheddar popcorn. I did buy a drink.

I’ve been watching the shark movies on Syfy. I’ve also kept track of the sightings of the Great Whites off Chatham. The pictures of the real sharks from aerial cameras are the scariest of all. The sharks look huge. If they were the stars of a science fiction movie, they’d have leapt up and eaten the plane. Today I got to watch The Three Headed Shark. It needed a huge suspension of disbelief.

Staying inside in the air conditioning leaves me with no adventures to enthrall my readers. Will I or will I not take a nap is the big dilemma. I’m leaning toward taking one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“One thing’s sure. Inspector Clay is dead. Murdered. And somebody’s responsible.”

December 28, 2014

The rain is back, but it’s a light rain, a tolerable rain. The day is warmer than expected. Gracie and I are going to the dump later. I also need to hit the store for a few essentials like cream for my coffee and bread. Gracie has only one can of dog food left so I’ll stop at Agway. I am not in an errand mood.

Decorating the house for Christmas is fun, filled with anticipation and memories of Christmases past. Cherished ornaments take their places in the front of the tree, and I move them around until they are just right. The tree is most beautiful at night with its lights brightening the room and reflecting in window panes. Soon enough, though, it will be time to take down Christmas. I usually do it all in one day as I don’t want remnants of Christmas hanging around, too much regret at its passing. Once I’m finished and Christmas is back in the cellar the rooms look bland. The only lights which stay all year are in the windows and in the kitchen where the shell lights and the pepper bunch light up the whole corner. After New Year’s is take down day.

I love the syfy channel, and I love comically bad movies, but sometimes my suspension of disbelief just can’t fight the absurdity. Cars chase running people who stay in the middle of the road. Veering toward a sidewalk between parked cars is never given a thought. Standing and watching a car flying right at you in a storm is common. The next shot is always the car and a body underneath it. Storms and strange prehistoric creatures bring out the silliness more than most plot details. A creature appears. Some idiot standing in a field stays there and the next thing is he is being flown away with his legs dangling from the creature’s mouth, sort of a take-out dinner. As for me, I admit I watch anyway. I really do love the absurdity.

“And I love a scary movie. It makes your toes curl and it’s not you going through it.”

May 5, 2012

Today is no different from yesterday or the day before or the day before that one. My deck still has its winter look. None of the furniture is uncovered, and the candles are yet to be hung from the trees. This cold and damp weather doesn’t invite the deck’s summer finery. I go out and fill the feeders then hurry back in cold from the dampness. It rained again last night, and I have a parade of paw prints across my kitchen floor. I’ll throw in a Pollyanna moment here and say there is an upside. My lawn looks green and lush.

Gracie and I are dump bound today, and I decided I might as well ruin the entire day by going grocery shopping.

If we count activity as productivity, this was a lazy week. Every chance I got, I read and yesterday I finished the Lincoln Vampire book. It was an odd one, and I’d be careful about to whom I’d recommend it. The list of people would be quite short. A suspension of disbelief  is entirely necessary.

I think we are all born with a suspension of disbelief then, as we get older, we stop believing in wonders and get skeptical and scoff. Away goes Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. Nothing replaces them. Our world becomes less filled with anticipation and a holiday is just a holiday. A once scary movie is made fun of and did you notice the Creature from the Black Lagoon wears a scuba tank? I didn’t. I love those old movies, and I always fail to notice their blemishes. I count myself lucky for that.

I admit being skeptical about many things. I don’t believe in ghosts, never did even when I was little. Things that went bump in the night gave me pause, but ghosts were never my first guess. I thought the Hook was more likely the reason for the noise. That story scared me to the roots of my being. The idea of his hook hanging from the car door seemed awful close to reality.

I love the books of Stephen King and Dean Koontz. A strange sound still gives me pause. That suspension of disbelief has never left me, and I am extremely grateful.