I tried to blog while watching a television last time, and I was very distracted. I think we’ve all learned a lesson. Well, actually, no I haven’t learned a darn thing, since I’m doing it again.

Also stacked against the chance that this will be genius gilded in gold-leaf and hilarity is that I’m tired and scatterbrained. The wife was home with a cold today, which throws the world into a state of chaos. I have to keep an eye on the dude to keep him from going up and waking her from a much-needed nap. Plus, I feel compelled to run around and try to help her with everything, but with no clear  direction I tend to be underfoot and irritating. So, my mental focus is virtually non-existent. And my mother-in-law left this morning after a very nice week-long visit, so the household is just beginning the recovery from company process. As an FYI, grandma confirmed that the little dude gives the sweetest kisses ever, so send home the other contestants.

In the few bursts of mental activity that I’ve been  able to manage today, I’ve been day-dreaming about an entirely impractical Star Wars story. The story would almost certainly lead me to legal trouble with that damnable Lucas, assuming anyone ever read it, so the effort spent writing it would be hard to justify. That may be why I return to the idea occasionally, my safe little unfulfillable pipe dream where I wreak revenge on the awful man who ruined my Vader.

For a change, I’m planning to have my turn with the cold this weekend. Instead of pretending that I will be immune to the illness swarming around me, I’ll put it into the schedule and if it magically misses me, extra free time!

It sucks the  funny out of  any comedic moment to sit down and thoroughly dissect it, but I can’t help ruminating on my sense of humour and where it came from.

This latest examination was triggered by watching the first season of “The IT Crowd” again. There is something about the British sitcom that really makes me laugh, especially the more absurd ones. My childhood memories are full of these sitcoms, like  “Some Mothers do have’em” or “On The Buses”. The one that I watched as a  boy and still find delightful is “Are You Being Served?” and it set down a clear pattern of the kind of show that really gets me laughing.

It’s a little strange that my mother was so fond of these shows, but I guess you don’t have to be English to enjoy the shows (obviously). I have to remember those times, sitting in front of the tv watching the sitcoms on TVO with the Lottario draw in between shows, as happy time that I spent with my mother. I tend to draw a blank when I try to think of any childhood memory with anything other than ambivalence, so this can serve me as a sign that I didn’t totally sleepwalk through my early years.

I’m not going so far as to say that these early shows created my sense of humour, but I think I was drawn to them because they were the right fit for me. I shy away from comedy writing (for some reason) but when I return to it, I”m bound to return to the zany situations and character types that send me into fits.

I bellyached about the atrocity to my ears that was committed by Tron:Legacy, and unfortunately I had to wag the finger of shame at Jeff Bridges. I know it was a fat paycheck, and sometimes an actor has to go back to a role even if he knows it’s going to turn out poorly, but I cannot grade on a curve. Not even for The Dude.

Thankfully, Jeff is now out of the dog house and free to return to his place inside the warm part of my heart. I just watched True Grit. His acting is fantastic and he gives such great depth to the character of Rooster Cogburn. He’s helped along by excellent dialogue written by the Coen brothers, and the strong cast surrounding him.

The best part of the movie isn’t Jeff Bridges, it’s the actress playing Maddie Ross. The strength and composure that 14 year  old Hailee Steinfield brings to the character is amazing. In a very strange turn of events, I formed a sense of paternal fondness for Maddie, adopting her as an imaginary daughter within the first half hour of the film. I am proud of a fictional character. If that’s not a sign of dissociation from reality, then I don’t know what is.

The movie itself inspired me, but in a slightly different way than I’m used to. I usually walk out of movies with my creative gland swollen and ready to expell….well that’s a disgusting image. Let’s try that again. I usually leave a movie feeling artistically inspired, either by having seen great art, or having endured someone ruining a perfectly good idea. This time, I was inspired by the filmmakers’ dedication to their craft. This movie was a perfect example of a Western. It should be held up as the archetype for a Western. The Coens don’t try to re-invent or turn it inside out: they lovingly pay attention to every detail, and stay true to every element that makes a movie in the Western genre great. This was a movie made with determination and hard work, and that makes me want to keep working hard and getting better at my craft.

Side note: you will not see another movie this decade that so accurately portrays the terrible, compromised state of the human mouth. History is full of rotten teeth and men mumbling through them.