I’ve been feeling kind of glum lately. Not too funny, not too fun. It happens sometimes. You know what I mean? The sky isn’t as blue as it usually is – ice doesn’t taste as good as my mind tells me it does. I’ve been working out but my fat ass still knock a small child unconscious.
See what I mean? I mean I don’t really have any reason to feel glum. Nothing is really wrong. Everything is fine, in fact. Still, the glum-bunny that is me mopes about leaving little sighs everywhere she goes, like footprints to the summer of my discontent. Pathetic, huh? I think so too.
So…whenever I feel this way, I lock myself in my room, unplug the phone and whip out my old movies. I don’t know what it is about old movies. Were they really better than what we see today? Did they really connect with people more? Speak to us more? Have a message we could relate to? I dunno – I think maybe they did – but it’s all so subjective.
I guess it really doesn’t matter because whatever it is they have – they do the trick. Especially musicals with snappy tunes. Nothing like Judy Garland or Fred Astaire to have you bobbing your head or tapping your foot – or even singing along. Nobody did the delayed ‘take’ like Jimmy Stewart. And I could spend hours trying to impersonate Kate Hepburn.
The King and I, My Fair Lady, It’s a Wonderful Life – any ‘we’ve got a barn, let’s have a show’ Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland vehicle. Doesn’t matter. Gimme them old time movies and the glum-bunny turns into a happy camper. I cry, I laugh, I dance, I sing – I’m outta control.
So, I’m going to be watching quite a few of these old relics – when I’m done, I’ll sleep a good sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll probably be funny or at the very least witty – or maybe just punny…but I won’t be glum.