At the Movies
Jennifer Flaten

I’d wrested control of the remote from the kids, much to their dismay. Hey, I can’t help if I am better at arm wrestling. No, it wasn’t an unfair fight; those darn kids are all muscle.  

Before the kids could launch a counter attack, I grabbed my prize and started flipping through the channels trying to find something that didn’t involve a pineapple under the sea. I clicked through the channels, refusing to watch SyFy, their spelling not mine, bizarre match up of albino sharks and overly tanned “Guidos.”

I wasn’t having much luck, unless I wanted to watch some obese woman screaming dancing instructions to tiny children. Finally, I happened upon TLC. Hmm, back when, when I actually watched television, television that didn’t have talking puppets, TLC stood for The Learning Channel.

Not anymore, apparently, it now stands for Total Lame Shows. Yes, I know that starts with an S not a C, but hey you try coming up with something clever that would work that starts with a C.

Now, all the shows on TLC appear to be reality based, but not in the good “learn about Galaxies way." No more like learn what it is like to be sister wife or have so many children you could be your own country. I think I will stick to the singing puppets.

I am very tired of “reality television,” especially because we all know it isn’t reality. There is no reality when you see Jenny McCarthy stranded on an island and wants to help you find true love. That is only in television unreality land. The reality it presents is nothing like the reality I see every day.

Of course, no one in their right mind would watch a reality show based on my daily life: all the cupcakes, for example. This is why Hollywood refuses to return my calls.

Bored with the offerings on television I decided to take the kids to a movie. "Madagascar 3" was playing. Occasionally, I do like kid’s stuff, especially if it involves escaped zoo animals who can talk.

Besides the little ditty from the commercial, I’ll spare you the agony and not sing it. If you haven’t heard it consider yourself lucky, was stuck in my head. I figured a movie was easier than a lobotomy.

Off we went to lounge in air-conditioned comfort and munch popcorn. Naturally, we saw the movie in 2D, despite the fact it was available in 3Ds. You know I am too cheap to spring for that extra D.

Frankly, I am little tired of every single movie, whether it needs 3D or not, getting 3D. The Madagascar movie is a perfect example. Watching the movie without benefit of 3D didn’t take anything away from the story. In fact, you could see the movie cluttered with unnecessary “action” scenes intended to work in the 3D format, but not fewer Ds.

As I stood in line for popcorn, I made the mistake of looking at the candy display and received a huge shock. It wasn’t the dazzling array of candy, although I admit the selection would make Willy Wonka jealous. Cotton candy, the authentic kind, openly for sale, at a movie: let me see, little kids in a dark theatre and long strands of sticky sugar, what could go wrong?

No, what startled me was the price: $4.00 for a box of Junior Mints? Guess they have to pay for those extra Ds somehow.