Oh, Joshua. I saw that movie The Titanic. They played it in the lobby of my building. I was late, because I was finishing some knitting, so the only seat available was next to that horrible man who wears the thick wool sweaters even in the summer, and I’m sure showers once a week if that. So he stinks to high heaven, and he always wants to talk about being in the war, only I’m absolutely positive he was never in the war. It’s an insult to you grandfather, God rest his soul.
The movie? What movie? Ohhhh, The Titanic. It was the one from a few years ago, about that boat. It had that handsome young man. You know the one. He was in the film about the boy who was a little…you know… slow. What do you mean I can’t say slow? That’s what he was. You know the one. He was in The Departure with Jack Whatshisname. Leonardo. Leonardo…DaVincio. He’s very handsome. I don’t much care for him.
It’s mostly a love story, which was very lovely. It was Leonardo DaVincio playing opposite the young woman from Bridget Jones, who probably should think about losing that weight if she ever wants to find a husband. But that DaVincio falls for her anyway, which I don’t believe because he is so handsome and she is so… Rubenesque. Then there’s the scene with the bosom painting, which I did not think was necessary at all. If I want to see a bosom, I would go to the doctor every nine months for my regular screening, which I do. Your mother picks me up, and usually we go out to lunch even though that seafood place on the corner has really gone downhill since the old owner, God rest his soul, passed away last year.
And all the sliding. Oy gevalt. People sliding this way and that way. It went on forever, it seemed. I know the boat sank, but so many people just sliding into the water. Enough. I don’t need to see all of that. Sliding and sliding every which way. It made me sick to my stomach. And that horrible man next to me starts to say something, and his breath is like a tuna casserole. The kind your mother used to love when she was a girl. But not while I’m watching a movie. I told that man to shut his mouth and let me enjoy the picture.
At the end, DaVincio dies in the water, which is a shame, because I think he would have been perfect for an adaptation of Revolutionary Road, which I loved as a book. And Bridget Jones throws her diamond into the water, which is so stupid. You could retire on a diamond like that. I’d love for that girlfriend of yours to have one of those for her ring finger, not that I want to interfere in your life, but I’m not getting any younger. In fact I’m getting older. And who knows how long I’ll be around. You know, before I’m dead, godforbid.
I stayed through the whole credits even though I can’t read words that small anymore. Your mother says I have cataracts, but I don’t think it’s cataracts. My eyes are just tired. And that lovely song about someone’s heart going on and on was playing. You know the one. By Selena Dion, I think. That Canadian singer who was murdered by the president of John Lennon’s fan club. Such a tragedy.
Did I like it? What’s to like? A bunch of schmucks fall off a boat. A fat, foolish woman throws a diamond into the water after the man who painted her bosoms dies. She should have stayed with her fiancé, who could have provided a very nice life for her. And the sliding. So much sliding.
But Wheel of Fortune was in repeats, so what can you do?