Talk of the Town Ernie Anderson
Happy New Year
New year, new me. This year, I’m finally going to get around to presenting myself in a more mature and studied way in this column space. Perhaps we can exchange exotic recipes or share bits of poetry that speak to our hearts. We could turn this place into a reading club or maybe some kind of support group. Who wants to go first? Got feelings you want to share with the rest of us? Go on, nobody is going to laugh at you. OK, that’s a lie. We’re all going to laugh at you, but be patient. We haven’t worked out all the bugs yet.
Where we’re going, we don’t need roads
So, during the rampaging rain storm a week ago, a piece of our roof flew off and body slammed the side of our car. Since then, we’ve been driving around with a ratchet strap stretch across the car roof to keep the passenger side door from flying open and to prevent a certain wife from tumbling out onto the highway. I kind of like it because it reminds me of all those lovable junk cars I used to drive. I had one old dog of a car that needed to be started with a screwdriver. I had another on which, in order to use the windshield wipers, I had to thrust my arm out into the rain and repeatedly yank on a length of rope. I had another car that had no reverse, but my favorite of them all was some exotic job that had a little quirk where if you drove at 88 mph, you’d end up in 1955 where you’d have to fend off weird advances from your own mother.
Waddaya know about that, Bert?
On Christmas Eve, I actually sat down and watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” from start to finish, which I don’t believe has ever been accomplished by anybody anywhere at any point in time. You know? When there’s no family running around bugging you with presents and food, good wishes and pleas to go back to detox, it’s really a darn great movie. I really came to love Donna Reed and her almost inhuman patience with her crabby, unraveling husband, but my absolute favorite part of the film is when an exasperated Jimmy Stewart turns to his wife and asks the traditional Christmas question: “Why do we have to have all these kids?”
It’s a Wonderful Dry Spell
You know what else bugs me about that movie? Old Clarence the angel finally gets his wings, but he never did get that drink he so passionately wanted at the dive bar formerly known as Martini’s. I mean Clarence really, REALLY wanted some liquor and who could blame him? George Bailey was kind of a jackass.
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