I wanted to see Beasts of the Southern Wild , a movie written by Lucy Alibar and Benh Zeitlin, because I saw the trailer and heard this:
“When it all goes quiet behind my eyes, I see everything that made me flying around in invisible pieces. I see that I am a little piece of a big universe.”
I asked Husband* if he would come with me. Once he found out that it was an indy movie, showing at an indy theater, he opted out.
Husband: I only want to see popular movies at real movie theaters.
It was then I realized Husband was the exact opposite of a hipster, and I was intrigued. Husband continued.
Husband: Like The Hobbit. I can’t wait for that movie to come out. That should be the next book for your blog.
Me: I read that they’re making The Hobbit into three movies.
Choosing The Hobbit for the blog was nearly a sealed deal until I remembered that I watched part of the 1977 version of it as a child with my older brother. We were at Burnout Bernie’s house, one of my dad’s friends, when BB put the movie on, assuring us that it was pretty cool. At some point not very far into the movie, something scared the holy guacamole out of me, and the movie was shut off. My brother then proceeded to beat the holy guacamole out of me because I ruined his movie watching experience.
I looked at Husband. Me: Is this book scary?
Husband: What? No.
Husband went looking for the book, while I texted EH.
Me: Have you seen the movie The Hobbit?
EH: It’s not out yet. It’s going to be three movies you know . . .
Me: The 1977 version.
EH: Oh, yeah in school. Not much educational value to it I’m afraid.
Husband: (yelling from downstairs) Why do I only have a section of books, and you have complete bookshelves?
Me: What’s yours is mine.
Husband: (now upstairs) It’s not in my section.
Me: Then it’s not in the house.
Husband tracked down the book. Seems he lent it to someone and it had to be mailed back to us, defeating one propose of the blog which was to get rid of books.
While the book was en route, I visited L and noticed the entire J.R.R. Tolkien collection sat on L’s bookshelf.
Me: Did you really read all of The Lord of the Rings?
Me: Was it good? I mean, is it written in old-timey language? I have a hard time with old-timey language.
L: I remember it being hard to get through, and maybe it was just because I was in high school when I read them, but I was like, ‘Oh get on with it already!’ The sentences seemed to go on and on forever, rambling. I should read them again.
Me: What are these . . ? (holding up another book from the shelf)
The Hobbit arrived. Printed neatly on the inside cover was an address, name (TH), phone number, and smiley face with a tongue sticking out. I fought the urge to call TH of Seattle and ask what they thought of the book. This was still useful information, as now I could threaten Husband when he became annoying:
Me: I’m gonna send this book back to TH if you don’t load the dishwasher.
Husband: You said you weren’t going to give away my books.
Me: I’m just giving it back.
Husband: Where is the dishwasher soap?
Me: I’m gonna call TH and ask if they want their book back if you don’t remember to put a trash bag in the can after you take it out . . .
Husband: (over the sound of a new trash bag swishing open) That number has to be at least thirty years old!
Selecting The Hobbit next for the blog became solidified after I thumbed through it. The book has maps. And songs. Songs and maps are quite enjoyable on their own, but songs and maps embedded in a book? Woven into a story? Tolkien for the win.
Forty-four pages later I was stricken by this quote: “Adventures are not all pony-rides in May-sunshine.” Oh yes, I thought, recalling a time when I begged Husband to go with me for Ethiopian food. We ordered the sampler platter.
Husband: This looks like somebody took twelve little dumps on the plate.
Me: Just try it!
Husband: You first.
Me: Is that half of a hard-boiled egg?
I knew Bilbo was going to be better for this adventure, and I couldn’t wait to see how.
*It’s just Husband from now on. I’m dropping the ‘my’ because the ownership seems weird every time I read it.