Celebration Time, Come ON!

I have, as of today, officially watched a football game from start to finish, and a Superbowl game - talk about two birds with one stone. I was cheering for the Steelers, and good for me. That 100 yard touchdown interception thing was a big deal, even to a non-fan like me. I was whooping and dog-pounding it Arsenio Hall style. Sadly, neither Alicia nor I won any money in the weird little gambling pool we entered, and so we owe $20, but I still call it well worth it for the thrill of getting my hopes up that I would win the $40 pot for the 4th quarter scores and have my team win. After the Cardinals threatened to come from behind, I was glad to settle for just having my team win.
Another cause for celebration is finally getting Netflix 'Watch Instantly' to work on my computer! I flipped out when I realized that Internet Explorer wasn't connecting to the internet (you need IE to Watch Instantly), and that this was a common experience, not some weird quirk of my own I could fix, but Josh alerted me to a Firefox plugin I could use and it saved the day. It also saved the night, as it allowed us to watch Back to the Future on a whim. I saw BTTF 3 recently, and BTTF 2 a couple of years ago, and while they both have their good points (2: it's so weiiird, plus it's not afraid to go pretty dark. 3: ZZ Top, hoedown, Marshall Strickland.), they're also not really that good (2: it's sooooo weird, plus cheese overload on the 80's cafe. 3: relentless whimsy and cutesyness, and nobody cares if Doc gets laid - hey, Doc, why don't you take a little of your own medicine? I notice you don't mind messing with the time stream when you're...hm...saving your own life or getting some tail!) and they can leave a tired-of-the-future taste in your mouth. However, watching the original was as refreshing as a crisp breeze off a sparkling surf on a sunny beach in a balmy season. Watching the original was like lying down in a bed made of memory foam and having sleepy puppies blanketing you, then waking up to a tall glass of fresh squeezed o.j. Watching the original was like having the power of flight. What I'm trying to say is that it's really good. Maybe the lesser-than sequels tainted my memories, maybe they shouldn't have left the Huey Lewis out of them, or maybe I just needed a good solid decade off from watching it obsessively (by the way, I was pretty into this movie when it came out. I have fond memories of the novelization that I got at KMart). Since then, I've been Netflixing like a madwoman and I don't see any end in sight.
I also watched Krull this weekend, after it forced me to buy it for ten bucks at Fred Meyers. Does anyone remember "The Computer That Said Steal Me," by the way, since I just reminded myself of it? I love those emotionally fraught 80's juvenile fictions. So angsty. Who wasn't afraid of dying in a Cold War armageddon? And yet I'm revolted by the preternaturally adult culture foisted on kidsthesedays. I mean, who isn't - or actually, I guess some people probably just think it's cute when 7 year olds dance like the Pussycat Dolls and sing fucking Hannah fucking Montana, and dress exclusively in adult styles or slogan t-shirts, but it ain't me, babe. I'm all for not pulling emotional punches on kids (and I'm sure that there are perfectly true arguments contrary to my opinion, certainly the weird tragedies and sucker-punches hidden in children's movies and books set a certain pessimistic tone for life), but I'm not for basically forcing them to emulate impossibly older age groups as soon as they're able to consume any kind of pop culture. Last week a kid at Head Start asked me to pass them the "Hannah Montana." Pointing at grapes. Purple grapes. They meant purple. BLEARGH.
In cheerier news, I'm excited for both the Thunder Mountain plays, I hear they're killer!