UPDATED: About the movies I watched, whatever they were

I love watching movies. But there are so many movies, so little time.

On an Ohio visit, time expands a little, and I might get to watch a couple.

This weekend, it was A League of their Own (again), Kiss Me Kate (first time), Outsourced (also new), Ten Commandments (part of), The Sound of Music (part of) and ... another one. That I'm forgetting.

Oh GOD that I'm forgetting.

We watched one late Friday afternoon, before Outsourcing (our evening movie), and I cannot remember for anything what it was.

What is wrong with my memory that I can't recall such a little thing? Or maybe that's it--it's a little thing, and my brain in its, ah, maturity, let's call it, tends to just dispose of any bit of knowledge not necessary to function.

I have gone to great lengths to find out what it was. I've searched several TV schedules (I can't even remember what CHANNEL it was on), searched through the newspaper TV listings, tried to look on Netflix (had to log in but have cancelled my membership), and tried to clear my mind of all distractions.

Gah.

Still no memory of that movie.

Oh, I really should tell you this. I'd also forgotten the late-evening movie, the one we watched AFTER Outsourcing. I was racking my brains over that one on the way home, listening to NPR and trying to distract myself. When, between news segments, the music was ... Take Me Out to the Ballgame. Which then reminded me ... of just what I needed.

I am holding on to my ace in the hole.

I can call my dad. I know he'll remember.

But the thought of calling an almost 86-year-old man for something I'VE forgotten is just ... embarrassing.

But if I go crazy enough trying to remember, I'm going to have to make that call. Before HE forgets.

UPDATE: I remembered.

My Cousin Vinny.

About reminising

So after shopping yesterday we ordered some pizza and started talking about people we grew up with.
What's funny is, what different memories each of us has, both of my sisters and my parents. They know stuff about people -- or know people -- don't know or remember, and we know stuff and people they don't.
Plus it was time for a little true confessions, as my youngest sister revealed she'd had a big party at the house my family had just moved out of, in about 1980. That was news to Mom and Dad. They might have been sorry they missed it--sounded like a fun bash.
When we were growing up we rode the bus for about an hour every morning. Our bus route was a big country route, and we picked the same group of kids up for the 12 years we rode. You get to know people really well in 12 years.
The farm boys who bragged about their tractors and their crops and played euchre every morning between the seats. The family who still had an outhouse. The people with the pink house. The little girls who herded their little brother on the buss every morning like so many mother hens. The big family whose house burnt down. The sisters who had bad haircuts and homemade clothes. The family with all boys--actually, we picked up two families with five boys each. The lucky kids who lived on Crescent Road and had only a 5 or 10 minute ride.
The good news to us was, if we were the first ones on the bus in the morning, we were also the first off in the afternoon, so by four we were in the house eating anything my mother set in front of us, and ready to get outside and play.
I read a lot of books on the bus during those years, and sometimes played euchre with the boys, or argued with them or told jokes or just were silly as only kids can be.
The really good part for me: being first on the bus, I always got the sit in the seat by the heater!
Well, how about you? Any long bus rides in your past?