The girls volleyball team I coach had a team dinner last night. We had finished eating our carbo load (stuffed pasta shells and garlic bread...yes mom, we had a salad too) and we were tearing into the caramel layered brownies...one of the girls said that they like my red sweatshirt. It was "a good color".
I told her that I seem to wear a lot of red. Claire likes me in that color and I have always sorta liked it. As a matter of fact, I confided in them, I have always thought it would be cool to have a nickname that is a color like "Red" or "Blue". They laughed and thought that was silly.
It was then I remembered that from about age 8 to around high school, I did have a nickname that was a color...or at least a color was in it. White-Boy.
At that age, my father was living very close to the Mexican Boarder. I was the ONLY white kid in the neighborhood.
Everyone called me "White-Boy". My friends, their parents and even the ice cream man.
I think I would prefer to be called "Red" or "Blue".
Nah, I will stick with Bogart.
So we went and saw the 12:01am showing of Where the Wild Things Are last night...this morning?...I'll stick with last night.
The reviews have been generally good and the previews are really freak'n fantastic.
The movie...well, it was good, but not quite as good as we had hoped.
A little darker than the previews would lead you to believe, but both Claire and I enjoyed it.
I am not a parent, but I am guessing kids under 8 or 9 would probably be a little scared...older than that and they will enjoy the heck out of it.
That is all.