9.05.2005

Fried Thoughts...

I did a lot of thinking today.

I stopped by the parents’ house again and my mom, as always, sent me home with food. Spaghetti. It made me miss my grandfather. When I was a kid, in the tiny town where we lived in Michigan, my grandma used to watch me while my parents worked. My favorite part of the day was lunchtime when my grandpa would come home and make us grilled cheese sandwiches and soup. “Green soup”, which is actually some sort of Lipton noodle soup or something. But my favorite was when there was left over spaghetti. Grandpa would throw it in a frying pan and make it taste better than it had to start with. He always cooked it until some of the noodles were crunchy and tonight, when I got home and tried (not for the first time) to duplicate Grandpa’s famous fried spaghetti, I failed miserably. Again. But the smell, in itself, was enough to bring back fond memories.

I also pondered the ending of “Sleepless in Seattle”. I mean, what happened after the movie ended? Did they ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after? Who moved where? If anyone has the answers to these questions…let me know…because it could just be that I don’t remember, but really, it is bothering me. Probably because my situation has been described to have some very similar characteristics. Very similar. Almost frighteningly similar. So this whole thing is relevant. If someone wrote my story already, I have a right to know how it ends.

Right?

Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "Southern Man" - Neil Young

10 comments:

themachineghost said...

what? you've now fallen in love with someone on a call-in radio show?

where have i been?

the movie ends with the kid introducing meg to tom and they get in an elevator together.
what you dont see is that tom hanks shockingly turns out to be a wife beater and meg ryan is addicted to xanax. That's all in the sequel, "Real Sleepy in Seattle."

spaceface said...

I think you are focusing in on the wrong details, dear...
but when you put it this way...maybe our situations are not so similar...you know, except for the xanax...

wmjwatson said...

Actually, like most movies it doesnt deal with THAT part. Like Peter David, a writer I admire once said (not sure if he was quoting someone else or not), "Happy endings are all about timing. Eventually everyone dies. Someone leaves and someone gets their heart broken." A comedy is just like a drama... it just ENDS before all the dramatic bits happen. But yeah... the moving question IS a big deal and a reason why many long distance relationships falter. SOMEONE has to move. And then you have the added stress for THAT person of moving to a new town, meeting new people and making a new life. I applaud anyone who has been able to DO that (I only know of one person so far) but I don't think I could ever do that.
And sorry if I intruded into a private conversation.
William

muckypuffin said...

firstly i don't want my following comments to be taken the wrong way, i'm not engaging some sort of strange stalking, bunny boiling mode!! the thing is i've just smoked a spliff (LOL not your friend!! um in the US i think ya call em doobies?? or have i been influenced too much by hollywood?!) anyways i just cruised through loads of your blog, i'm gripped by the story of the infamous letter!! having also been down the exposing ya deepest thoughts in a letter situation followed by the should i send it should i send it nightmare (i never did) my heart is warmed by the fact you sent it and made things better - it gives me faith in the chemical imbalance that is meaningful relationships.

anyways back to the weird stalking bit!!!

um i have an overwhelming desire to got my ass in the kitchen and make you a big steaming bowl of fried spaghetti. it wouldn't be as good as your grandpa's because the memory you have of how good it was isn't just based on the quality of the fried spaghetti - its the fact your grandpa made it. anyway like i said it wouldn't be as good as your grandpa's but i did train as an Italian chef for a few years so I would hope it wouldn't be completely disgusting. then... (this is the bit where things get a bit elaborate) i would attempt to box up the spaghetti in a special box that would keep the food all warm and just cooked fresh, then i would attempt to use my psychic powers to guess your address and fed ex the parcel at just the right moment so that it would turn up at your house just at a time when your sat monging out thinking "i could just do with some food but can't be bothered making any"

I would imagine it would be a little bit weird for a bowl of fried spaghetti to turn up at your house, so in the box i would put a little note in there and it would say....

please find enclosed a humble bowl of fried spaghetti, i hope ya enjoy it and i hope in some small way it restores the faith you have in yourself that every now and again you seem to lose. you received this random gift from the other side of the atlantic because somebody stumbled upon your written thoughts on the internet and that somebody concluded from those thoughts that you were essentially a good enough person to deserve this modest gift.

blimey i've baffled my self with the elaborate nature of this idea!! and ya know what the really stupid (cue Alanis Morissette on the stereo) ironic thing is?? i'm so going "should i post this bizarre comment" "should i post this bizarre comment?? how funny! but if there is one thing i've learnt today its that i should have faith and therefore i shall move the mouse towards the post button and cli....

spaceface said...

Muckypuffin,
I must say, I am flattered that you have deemed me worthy of a bowl of fried spaghetti. That is a compliment above all other compliments. Just keep in mind, NO BEEF or swiss cheese...

Further, I do not suspect that you are some kind of bunny boiling transatlantic stalker and, as always, am very entertained by and appreciative of your comments.

spaceface said...

And Watson...
I agree with you. I think it is a very difficult situation to be in. And I believe that the reason that movies like this will always be around is because you can escape all reality in them. You can form your own ending. You can assume that Tom and Meg live happily ever after. They have the perfect white picket fence dream life...and it is foolish to believe such things. But it helps to escape the reality of sadness, of loss. And we are desperate to believe that these things can happen this way...even though we may just be setting ourselves up for disaster.

I suppose though, naive as it may be, we never know unless we try...

spaceface said...

Also...I think that possibly the only people that say "doobie" are...pretty old and probably haven't seen one since the 60's...You may indeed, have been influenced too much by Hollywood, but what, may I ask, are you watching?!

muckypuffin said...

um the clerks series upto and including jay and slient bob strike back.

wmjwatson said...

Don't forget the cartoon series, mucky!!
And, man, spaceface...way to insult the Doobie Brothers!! Actually, I think old people still use "Mary Jane". Little younger than that uses "Grass". My mother just says "drugs" and an old friend who can't seem to go a day without it calls it "Smoking". I have always used the term "Pot". Does this make me unhip? shudder.

wmjwatson said...

And you know... still reeling from being called "Watson"! Man, did I have some wicked college flashbacks!