August 19, 2006
Some days it is a good thing to just rant and rave a bit. It is good for the soul.
Perfect example, on this very morning I got up before breakfast. Without enough coffee in me yet to clear the morning fog, I began to carry on about all manner of things.
Lucky for the rest of the household, no one was up but me.
My mental tirade went something like this.
“Take the critics for example,” I said. I am not exactly sure to whom I was talking this morning but no matter.
If the critics hate it, that means I will dig it-- movies, books, restaurants, sitcoms, or Baskin Robbins flavor of the month. Does not matter much what it is. If they say it is terrible, there is a better than good chance I will love it.
Neither do I listen to weather forecasters or pollsters. Maybe it is just my stubborn Midwestern streak, but please do not tell me I should get out my umbrella or tell me who will win or lose any given election.
I might believe a good sports prognosticator though if he likes my team.
Tell me what I am expected to like or dislike and my mind will shut you off quicker than a duck on a June bug.
Winter is coming, and I sincerely hope I do not have to watch too many budding young journalists measure the snow for me this season. You’ve seen it. A reporter stands on a busy street with a ruler measuring six inches of snow just so we will get the idea how deep six inches is.
Pullease!
And while we are discussing the weather, I might tell you that long ago I learned, probably from growing up in the country, that weather forecasters rarely get it right.
Better to go outside and check the sky for yourself.
Clouds tell all. Learn a few cloud types, and you will know if it is going to rain or not.
Seasoned farmers understand another simple weather truth: if the birds suddenly go silent, expect thunder.
For city folks, you might not be able to observe this next weather proverb too readily, but take a listen anyway. When the cattle remain on the hilltops, fine weather will come. Beware though, if the cattle huddle together and move to lower ground.
Now, that I had finished mentally skewing the weather forecasters, and I had not even gotten to hurricane forecasters yet, I moved on to roasting movie critics.
“Take the movie critics, please take them,” I mused, doing my best Rodney Dangerfield impression.
Their esteemed four-point rating scale only gave the Pirates of the Caribbean 1/2 a star when the movie was released this summer of 2006.
“A lot they know,” I muttered to myself.
I was steamed because they advised us not to see it. Stay home they said.
That was enough for me and millions of others to race to the box office for tickets. Attendance broke the record book, and the public loved it. So did I. Laughed out loud, too.
Now, the same situation is happening in New York where critics have advised residents not to watch the movie World Trade Center because it could be too painful. Word of mouth, however, has drawn record crowds who want to see it no matter how distressing the memories of September 11, 2001, may be.
Critics, let us have a good cry about it. We’ll feel better.
And, one more thing.
I like Wal-Mart.
Ok. I feel better now.
