The kids are away for the weekend, having a sleepover with Jenny’s kids. I already suspect they’re going to have a hard time returning home, because, as is the way of all things in this world, Jenny is inherently more fun than me – being not-Mom and all – and so coming home is going to mean rules, and homework, and trumpet practice (which, in an apartment this small, becomes a whole-family activity, like it or not).
But we do have an ace up our sleeve, this time; a carrot to convince them that perhaps home’s not such a terrible place after all. It’s a little thing we call… a 42″ plasma television (a Panasonic Viera, if such things mean anything to you). Oh, it’s pretty. And big. And detailed, and basically puts our former cute little 27″ antique (OK, eight years old, close enough) dinosaur to shame. It’s really just as well that the delivery guys took the old TV away for whatever nefarious purposes they might need old TVs for, because it would only have been cruel to make it sit around in the same room while Willem smiled uncontrollably all evening.
Sports are, apparently, several flavors of improved when seen in high definition. And while there’s no amount of television technology that’s going to succeed in turning me into anything remotely resembling a fan, I can attest that the new toy makes me willing to sit and watch a college football game for five straight minutes. The last time I did so was in 1997, when I attended a Penn State game and felt obligated to at least pretend to watch the field.
We further celebrated the evening by watching a very long movie, without fear of interruption… I’ve had The Changeling sitting here for weeks, sad and neglected because it’s very rare for me to even turn on the TV when I’m home alone (admittedly, this may change now) and unheard of for me to break into the Netflix stash without Willem around. The school year has been horrifyingly busy for us all, and so here it is, late October, and we’re finally watching it.
All by itself, even if you still have a less grin-inducing television model, the movie is very much worth the watch. My only complaint is that, since my kids are 50-some miles away and (I would hope, since it’s after midnight) sound asleep, I can’t go in and kiss them and reassure myself that they’re safe and sound. It’s the kind of movie that necessitates an extra post-bedtime hug.
But, with the high definition, not only was I sucked in by the storyline, but I was also impressed by the lifelike nature of it all. John Malkovich was in my living room, and I’m frankly a little surprised he didn’t ask to use the bathroom or something while he was here.
I tend to suspect it’ll be me driving down to pick up the kids tomorrow. I just don’t have the heart to pry Willem away on his first post-Panasonic-purchase football Sunday.