No, I didn’t go out to celebrate it. I slept in to celebrate it. My son woke me at midnight to greet it in, while his new bride claims she slept through the whole thing. No, the honeymoon’s not over, and he’s far from being a Mama’s boy. I think he’s just checking on me because I kind of disappeared on him Christmas Day. Another story.
Frankly, I’m momentarily at peace with the world because the other day I found that, in my own way, I still connect with the twenty-somethings of the good ol’ US of A. Channel surfing one night, I landed on the first few minutes of what I guess you’d call a romantic comedy. My mind had been drifting when slowly I began to notice the movie. I would not have turned to it on purpose. It starred six twenty-somethings: some girl named Something-or-other Potter, and, I think, Freddy Prinze, Jr -- he’s cute (probably what kept me from immediately changing the station) – and four runway models. Was I ever that young (Yes), that slim (Yes), that spontaneous (Still)?
The movie was called “Head Over Heels.” It was hysterical. Even though it had the Americans-must-have bathroom humor, these scenes were actually funny. In fact, several scenes had me boisterously laughing with the requisite tears.
Can’t tell you why this movie struck me this way, because the plot was soooo predictable to this jaded reader/writer. I guess because I had no expectations, and left myself open to just enjoying it – regardless of the shifted age perspective.
I’m still me, going on sixty-something. Still learning that my spirit can enjoy some things that are twenty-something.
The universe is telling me it could be a very good new year.
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