It’s been a lazy Sunday after a busy week and a busy Saturday.
Although I woke up early I ached all over and didn’t feel much like getting up. However since a shower usually brings me around at 8am I hopped in and turned the heat up as far as I could stand it.
I’m not sure why but recently I’ve come to like the almost but not quite burning sensation of hot water, and hold my hands under it until I can take no more. It produces a tingling sensation that I always hated previously, but like with sprouts at Christmas as you get older your tastes change.
Movies for instance are a good example.
When I first bought my own colour television and a video recorder (Nicam digital stereo and a SCART connector no less) I purchased VHS after VHS of all the latest and greatest movies.
I must have worn my copies of Terminator and Predator out with the constant rewinding.
I just loved the action, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
These days I still like a good action movie, but I’m not always so keen on the violence, or come to think of it the noise.
Whilst explaining this to a friend & telling them why they should watch The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel recently, my friend replied ‘pffft. I’ll watch it when I’m old!’
‘But it’s a good film!’ I protested.
‘Yea but I’m not old!’ He replied.
It’s difficult to argue with facts.
He wasn’t old (neither am I!) but I felt he was missing the point. When Arnie pinned a guerrilla to a wall with a machete and said ‘stick around’ I used to giggle with glee.
I still smirk now if I’m honest, but mostly with nostalgia and humour at the cheese of the line.
Nowadays I like to think I’m more likely to be found in the documentary section of Netflix rather than the blockbuster section, and although I definitely like action movies I often find myself these days yearning more for a good plot and some well acted characters, or a bit of history that educates while it entertains.
This afternoon after a spell where my armchair and I had been enjoying some intimate alone time together I decided I needed to avoid an impending coma and headed off to the cinema.
People had been recommending ‘Deadpool’ to me for a while, knowing that I’m into superhero movies so I decided to give it a go.
While I enjoyed the in jokes and the comic and film references that the film revelled in from start to finish it fell a little flat for me. I left and came home wondering if I should look for a good documentary before donning my slippers, pouring my mug of Earl Grey, filling my hot water bottle and heading for my early night sucking a Werther’s Original.
Netflix filled my TV screen and I hunted through the documentaries.
History? Nah.
Politics? Triple nah.
Gangsters? Mmmmmaybe….
Then I remembered. I had a Vin Diesel film I hadn’t watched yet where he played an immortal witch hunter, killing anything that had smaller biceps than him with a huge axe or an even bigger sword, whilst grunting the occasional line of dialogue.
I sipped my Earl Grey tea. I’m trying to be sophisticated lately and drink it without milk.
Surely there was a more cerebral documentary? Something to broaden my mind?
I tapped my finger on the rim of my mug, considering the educational documentaries on offer, and what the Discovery Channel could provide.
Two hours, several dead witches, a few bullets and lots of chopping and grunting later I had finished my Vin Diesel backlog and felt rather satisfied.
I had also decided that Deadpool was after all a bit amusing, and giggled about the bit where he got shot in the bum. I think if I’d gone in with different expectations I’d have rather enjoyed it.
Clearly I just like a lot of different types of films and someone getting a slapstick bullet in the rectum still makes me laugh.
Pffft. I’ll watch the documentaries when I’m old. Life’s too short to be serious.
Now where’s my copy of Predator 2 and that pint of milk?…
Davey
