The Movie, the Park & Other Things*

Conversations at our house go much like they did the other day.

Me: I have PTO tomorrow, what would you like to do?

Mr. Ginley: You mean you have a vacation day. What do you want to do? It's your day off. What's the weather supposed to be like?

Me: Didn't you watch the weather on the news tonight?

Mr. Ginley: No, they start doing all that happy talk, and I can't stand it. 'Are you watching The Bachelorette tonight, Suzie?' Why don't you just look up the weather on your phone.

Me: (Looking up the weather on my phone.) It looks like a chance of rain all day. We could go see Oppenheimer.

Mr. Ginley: We could do that. If you want to. What times are the movies?

Me: 11:00 and 2:45. Which one do you want to go to?

Mr. Ginley: It's up to you.

Me: I have to have blood drawn first thing, but I'm free after that, so let's do 11:00. But no popcorn or Milk Duds or anything else that's going to knock that crown out of your tooth.

And so our course was set. 

Admittedly, I was a little nervous. I'd read a lot in the paper about kids disrupting movies in the theater, although it was mostly during the Barbie movie. I couldn't imagine young teens sitting through Oppenheimer or even attempting it. We were a little concerned in the beginning because the folks in the row ahead of us were doing pre-movie phone checks, talking and rustling, but I guess they were just settling in because they were okay for the rest of the picture.

I thought the film was well-done, but Mr. wasn't happy about the parts they "tarted up."

"That stuff about what was going on in his head. That was dumb. I bet that didn't happen."

Well, maybe, but since we can't dig Oppenheimer up and ask him, I guess the filmmakers felt safe taking creative license.

After the movie, we headed to Piada, billed as "Italian Street Food." We hadn't eaten there in awhile because at some point, they stopped serving it your way. I had a taste for something different, so we went, were able to customize our order and headed down to the Valley to eat and watch the squirrels, birds and a few park-goers.

"This is fine, but I don't feel like walking here. We always walk here. Let's go to Lakewood Park."

For those of you who aren't natives, Lakewood Park is situated on Lake Erie. They've done a lovely job with it over the years. Many moons ago when I first started going there, it had a pavilion, ball field, a lot of grass and trees and some swings. Then they created a dirt path you could walk down on one side. These days, there's also a ramp that goes down to the water's edge, a tiered concrete seating area and those memorial benches you can sponsor. And one of those telescope things you can look through to see the boats close up and personal (the ABC way.) Do you hate my obscure references? Ah, well. 

The weather was perfect, and we parked ourselves on a bench and talked for an hour or two. It's nice to stop what you're doing every now and again and, as Connie Schultz instructs, "Breathe!" 

We've been so lucky with the weather so far this summer. (I say "so far" in case the weather gods are listening, they can be a vindictive bunch.) Thursday was a prime example of the not-too-hot summer days we've been having. I wish it could be like this all year long.

After the park, it was time to go home and feed Maggie whom, we imagined, was pacing the floor looking at the clock, muttering to herself, "Where are those assxxxxx." (I cleaned up her language for you. You're welcome.)

I know there were a gazillion other productive things we should have done instead. 

But making memories is a much better way to spend the day. 

*Props to anyone who got the Cowsills reference in the title. Or maybe it's a bad thing that you know how my mind works?