Ah – Last week I had a birthday. Odd thing. I set out to be quiet about it, but I ended up telling everyone I met. Not sure how that works. The biggest surprise was that my staff gathered together and bought me a bottle of scotch – 10 year Ardbeg. It is quite good. As a ten year it is quite young and the peat from the malt drying is very present.
Other than the surprise scotch and my blabbing about my birthday to everyone, it was quiet. We did normal gaming that night. Rob, Dano and Tim were there. On Sunday, Mom took me to post-birthday brunch. And then we watched Rock of Ages.
Rock of Ages was not good. Charitably, I’d call it a bad movie. It was a broad comedy – maybe a farce. It was as raunchy as an American Pie movie, but with a PG-13 rating. Lots of the jokes worked. More didn’t. That wasn’t the problem. The two leads were just not good. I think those roles were meant to be played straight and came off as flat. Mom thought they too were farce. The male lead was supposed to be an upcoming Detroit rocker, but was only believable during a scene where he was briefly part of a boy band. The female lead was beautiful and Oklahoma pure, but her acting and singing had the same range – none. And the songs were castrated of edge. Guitar and drums softened to make sure the vocals were heard. And nothing was raw. Nothing every hurt. It wasn’t rocked. It was pop played to rock melodies. But I thought Tom Cruise was excellent. Funny and obscene.
It was also Father’s Day. I said to Mom that there seems to be far more days to remember Dad now that he has passed than when he was alive. In part it is because we were not good at holidays. Christmas, Easter and Halloween were big and my and my brother’s birthdays were occasions. But the rest? Not so much.
So yesterday wasn’t hard. No harder than any other day. Dad would have sat outside on the front patio. Read a book. Drank a Pilsner. Smoked a cigarette. He would have talked to the neighbours, to passing kids and to us if we played outside. There might have been a project – painting the patio or oiling the lift, sweeping the driveway – he’d talk us through it. That would have been Father’s Day when I was 10 or 11. But that was also any other weekend day when it didn’t rain all day.
I haven’t been posting because I’m rewatching Lost. I get caught up. One episode leads to another and then it is bedtime. I’m watching 15 minutes in the morning before my bus. I’ll try and do better this week.
Thanks for all the birthday wishes. Happy day after Father’s Day to all the Dads.
I’m off to watch Lost.