Too . . . tired, can't . . . blog . . .

Well, I'll tell you this one, with Hurculean effort. I was on the subway last week, near a couple in their 80s (judging by my 70-something parents). The man had just come from the doctor, where he was told he wasn't going to get his cataracts removed. Then they started talking about what movie they were going to see. The wife suggested "Baby Mama" based on TV commercials she'd seen, but the husband knows someone who thought it was silly. The wife consulted the paper, grumbling about how they never tell you what the movie's about, everything used to cost a nickel, etc. "Oh, what's that one about some people on Guantanamo?" Now, if I hadn't been on my way somewhere, it would have been hilarious to follow them off the train, sit behind these people, and observe their response to "Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay", but I couldn't keep mum. "I don't think you'd like that one," I said. "Oh? What's it about?" "It's about two guys who smoke a lot of . . . marijuana. It's a teen comedy." "Oh, thank you," they said as we pulled into Jay Street where they were getting off. "Well, 'Baby Mama', then," they agreed.

Which, really, they probably didn't like that one much better.