talking to chairs.)
They flew to L.A. just to see Neil Diamond. I guess he had a popular album recorded at The Greek forty years ago and now, on the forty year anniversary, he was gonna rock it again. Because we happen to live right next to the venue and because I grew up listening to "Cracklin' Rosie" (and because I love my mom), we agreed to take them. They were stoked.
So, for days we did stuff. We went to the outlet mall, we went to the giant shoe store on Sunset Boulevard, we brunched with hipsters in Echo Park, we saw the new Bourne movie and, of course, rocked out with Neil Diamond. My parents wanted to buy me things along the way. I scored an awesome dress from the outlet mall and um, a florescent green stuffed frog with a guitar on his back. (You leave them alone at the Neil Diamond merchandise stand for one minute and all of a sudden you're the proud owner of a stuffed frog.)
The last night they were here, we were tired of doing stuff. We all just wanted to chill. Neil had rocked us out. But, it was hard to choose a movie that all four of us wanted to watch. Between all of us, we'd seen every movie ever created and one of us was guaranteed to hate any movie suggested. So we started talking about t.v. shows. Turns out we don't watch the same shows at all. (I'm pretty sure my mom only watches shows produced by Oprah and my dad survives on news and football.) We started telling them about Breaking Bad and Mad Men and every other show we watch religiously. They were interested in most of them.
So we sat with my parents and watched the pilot of each of our favorite shows. The most surprising thing about it was how much fun it was to watch them again knowing what would happen down the line. (Like, picture Walter White as a Chemistry teacher. Ha!) As we watched Mad Men, Tim (who'd had a few beers) kept saying the characters' names as they'd appear onscreen. As in, "Oh Peggy!" Or, "Betty Draper!" Or, "Roger! Yeah!" My parents, who'd lived through the early sixties, sat watching silently, occasionally nodding their heads or laughing softly. After it was over, my mom told me that she thought it was funny when I laughed at Pete telling Peggy to "go home and put her rollers in." She said that was what women did back then. She said, "All the girls in my dorm slept in rollers every night. Except me. I didn't have to." (My mother and I both have naturally curly hair which I suppose would have been a time-saver had I grown up in the sixties instead of the straightening iron-obsessed nineties.)
Next up was Sons Of Anarchy. I really wanted them to like this one because I'm obsessed with it. You know how everyone feels about Breaking Bad? That's how I feel about Sons Of Anarchy. I want my own cut! I wanna get in a fight with Jemma! (Okay, maybe not that.) The new season starts in a couple of weeks and I'm freaking out. I watch Breaking Bad and I dig me some Jesse Pinkman but my heart belongs to the Sons. My dad loved it, as I knew he would. I mean, guns and motorcycles and guns. Yeah, his alley all the way. My mom sort of squinted at the screen like, what the hell is my daughter making me watch. It was pretty funny. But, she'd liked Mad Men so we pressed on. Downton Abbey seemed to hold their attention even though Tim kept pausing it and explaining things. (Many beers, you guys. Many beers.) I think they both really liked Sherlock. (How can you not like Sherlock?!)
So, we'll see what they actually end up watching back in West Texas. My prediction is that my dad watches Sons Of Anarchy by himself and they end up watching Sherlock together. Not sure they'll watch any of the others but I'm still glad we shared with them. It was funny. It was interesting to see what they responded to. It was hilarious to hear my husband yell out character's names like he was running into long lost friends at the grocery store or something.
Anyway. Did I tell you guys about my frog?
I have a frog.