One of my favorite quotes with one of my sweetest passions . . . 

Realistic Fantasy - 2.0

My husband is an engineer. He likes the solid reality of computer languages and Internet access. 

I enjoy the idea that trolls live in the knothole of our live oak tree in the backyard.

In that one Batman movie, when Robin knocked on the giant metal island with his fist and joked, “Holy rusted metal, Batman,” my husband snorted through his nose and declared, loudly, “Oh, that’s so unbelievable.”

Astounded, I looked at him and said, “Which part of this movie did you find believable? The bat suit with the rubber man nipples?”

Movie watchers sitting near us in the theater were happy to tell us to shut up.

Fantasy is not my husband’s thing.

I love Godzilla and Mothra and horse riding wizards.

Sherwood loves jock straps.

Sigh.

After watching the latest incarnation of the great Godzilla franchise, I waxed enthusiastic. 

“Godzilla as he was meant to be. Big. Tough. Ticked off. Loved it. Loved the train full of atomic bombs, conveniently lined up for radiation eating monsters—to eat! Loved it!”

I never told my husband to go see Godzilla. Never. Why would I? He is NOT a true fan. He is an engineer, forced to see the world as a giant Sudoku puzzle—poor linear man.

He went to see Godzilla . . . 

And found it wildly flawed.

Then he went to see X-Men with our son, the same kid that used to wear fish shaped oven mitts on his feet and stomp around my kitchen pretending to crush some guy named Tokyo. After the movie, my husband, the computer engineer, came home on a tear.

“So how was the movie?” I asked.

“Ugh! It was so ridiculous. All the creatures are so fantastic.”

“Sure. Sure. Fantasy tends to be kind of fantastic.”

“But why? Why can’t there be realistic fantasy?”

“It’s called the suspension of disbelief or pulling the stick out of one’s bottom for a bit and having fun with monsters. That’s all. You have to want to believe.”

“But I can’t.”

“I know, honey. I know. It’s okay. You don’t have to believe. Just sit here next to me. I’ll believe for both of us. See there,” I said, pointing. “In that big old oak tree over there, I think I see a troll peeking out of that knothole. Just squint your eyes up a bit.”

He never did squint.

Linda (Run, Tokyo, Run) Zern

Lists to Love

Bloggers know that readers love lists: ten favorite movies; eight best ways to watch your ten favorite movies; twelve best snacks to eat while watching your ten favorite movies in your third snazziest pajamas. You know. Lists. 

Some of my favorite lists are 1) Lists about pet peeves 2) Lists about people who make lists and 3) Lists of favorite . . . colors, foods, names, smells, movies, books, snacks, games, dogs, cats, vacations . . . you know, everything.

So, let’s make some lists. Shall we?

Favorite come-on lines that my husband has been using on me since we started dating in high school: 1) Let’s get it on. 2) Let’s get in on in my Chevy van. 3) Want to get it on before the kids get here?

My three best responses to my husband’s favorite come-on lines: 1) No! 2) You don’t have a Chevy van and no! And 3) Are you crazy?

Five top signs that you are living with Visigoths. 1) There are sticks and stones in the microwave. 2) There’s more sand in the living room than the barn. 3) You find small children asleep under bushes and hedges. 4) Butting heads with a goat is considered a recreational activity. 5) Underwear is considered outerwear.

Seven things that make me sad: 1) Dead light bulbs. 2) Sticks and stones in my microwave. 3) When my husband says he’s, “Ready to go” and he really means, “Get in the truck and try not to die of heatstroke, while I check every window, door, lock, and light bulb.” 4) Liars. 5) People who live in cities—where they sit in apartments listening to each other’s poop slide through the walls—who try to tell people who live in the the country the right way to live and be happy. 6) City mice. 7) Corrupt city mice that live in Washington D. C. 

Favorite authors: 1) Shirley Jackson 2) C. S. Lewis 3) Ray Bradbury 4) Ayn Rand 5) Harper Lee 6) Charles Portis 7) Richard Powell 8) Pat Frank 9) Oh, so very, very many . . .

Top Five Regrets: 1) That I’m too small to pick up tree trunks 2) That big and strong is wasted on a lot of people 3) That I can’t fly 4) That I can’t make other people fly 5) That I can’t brainwash people, even though I’ve been accused of being able to brainwash people.

Most favorite colors: 1) Glitter. That’s it. It’s a short list.

And so the list making goes on your top blogs, saving us from having to read real long sentences with complicated punctuation.

Linda (Listless) Zern