Be Kind, Rewind

I have a weird confession to make.

It’s going to come as a shock, so I hope you’re sitting down. You probably are, as it’s hard to walk and read at the same time.

Okay, here goes: I haven’t seen that movie.

I know, right?! Crazy. You know the one, the one with that one guy? The one where they go places and do stuff? Yeah, never seen it.

And I’m constantly, irrationally embarrassed by this fact.

You could insert any one of a thousand different popular movies from The Jazz Singer to Pretty In Pink, and the chances are strong that I’ve never watched it. I know this much: I should probably fix this issue before I fulfill my lifelong dream of being on Jeopardy!

When confronted with my cinema knowledge gap, I get a specific, familiar feeling: I’m flashing a forced, fake smile to my flushed face because I don’t understand your reference. All the while, I’m hoping my weird grin will be enough to shield me from scrutiny until the conversation moves beyond this moment. It usually works.

But when my toothy dog-smile is not an effective parry, I’m left wincing, bracing for the inevitable, accusatory, “WHAT?! You’ve never seen that? How on earth have you never seen it?”

It’s not intentional, like I skipped seeing Harry Potter And The Seventeen Sequels because I think I’m too sophisticated for kids’ movies. I’m well known to be immature. Or I boycotted the release of Titanic because I’m secretly an iceberg rights…