My family has a tradition. The Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, my hubby takes my kids fishing on a remote lake deep in Maine’s ‘unorganized territory ‘. I can’t be any more specific than that, because he has sworn me to secrecy. The place is tourist-free at the moment, and he’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible. Besides, where they choose to drown a few dozen worms every year isn’t the point of this story. The point is this: I had an entire Saturday all to myself.
What would most women have done with this valuable time? To be perfectly honest, I really don’t care, because that isn’t the point of this story, either. This is what I did:
Having bumped three of Kel’s Must Watch DVDs (aka, movies nobody else in my family cares about watching) to the top of our Netflix queue, I spent all of Saturday watching them.
First up, Todd Haynes’ “I’m Not There.” If you’re a Dylan fan, and you haven’t seen it already, get on it. Next up was Kenneth Branaugh’s Hamlet. All four hours of it. Then I watched it again with the director’s commentary. That’s right…eight hours of Hamlet. Finally, disc 3 of season 2 of “24.” Blame my buddy Elle . She recently got me hooked on Jack Bauer’s frequently questionable exploits.
All total, I spent just over 14 hours sitting on my ass in front of the televsion. I should be ashamed of myself, but I’m not. After all, I did manage to weed my garden and worked a little bit on a new screenplay in between the onscreen action. Maybe someday a woman with some time to kill will spend it watching a movie I’ve written. That would be cool.
In the meantime, something else I’ve written is available online right now. That’s right, Chapter 3 of Waiting for Spring is up at Readers and Writers Blog, along with an amazing poem–Oh Mathilda–by Ian Spitzig, the latest installment of Gerard Jones’ Ginny Good, and the final chapter of The Unearthing. Check ’em out.