queue de grace: parmesian encrusted with taste buds ringing in delight

For years I didn't like fish.

I mean for eating, I wasn't somehow enraged by halibut, should I ever happen to meet one. 

But fish tasted bland and lifeless, with a texture that was a bit like crumbly epoxy, accompanied by a side of bad fishy smell, and undercooked soggy fries, with the last dregs of watery ketchup from a bottle long past it's prime.  Or it tasted really scary and too alive to be dealt with.  My appendix isn't active, and I don't want to think about my body trying to digest that nasty thing I just managed to choke down.

Delicious.

Then I discovered that, growing up in Oklahoma, I'd never had fish before.  Not really anyway.  My understanding of fish as non-edible was based on Mrs. Paul's Fish Sticks, and the little bars of leftover oceanic pieces / parts that were served in the school cafeteria.  Fish don't have fingers, you pirates, you're not fooling anyone here.

Amazing how 20+ years later I can still vividly remember that smell.  It's like a visit to the fish dentist.

To be fair, if you bother to look, Oklahoma has amazing catfish and there are folks and restaurants who can prepare it properly.  Done right, it will rival almost any dish I can think of.  For whatever reason, that experience was outside my circle and I was stuck with swillfish and re-processed bass innards.

My ephishany happened with friends on the coast of North Carolina.  Apparently there was a seafood place of southern renown and they were all buzzing about it.  I was along for the ride, and didn't want to be too much of a downer, so was planning to quietly order something safe and hope for the best.

To the horror of the entire table, I ordered chopped steak and some shrimp on the side as a meager attempt at participating in "seafood."   One of the more colorful natives said, "Son, what the hell are you doing?  Did you see any cows on the trip out here?"

Ouch, good point.  I timidly explained that I didn't like fish, from my extensive seafood-sampling experience from completely landlocked Oklahoma.  They all thought that was pretty funny.  It's like a Canadian who doesn't like Mexican Food, because Taco Bell in Calgary gets meat from a bag... you get the idea.

So the same gregarious southerner, who knew our waitress by name, ordered a gigantic sampler of basically everything the restaurant served... with the goal of forcing me to eat a bite of everything while a crowd looked on.  A fishocopia of 17 kinds of aquatic phylum, shrimp, scallops, clams and things I didn't catch the name of arrived and several people started arguing about what I should be force fed first.

Can I just say, that this was not fun for me?  I have simple tastes, I know what I like and please leave me alone.  Please.  I don't need to expand my horizons to bricks and centipedes and fish.

Until the first bite.  The clouds parted and light shone down from heaven on the absolute miracle that was fish done well.  Holy smokes was it wonderful, and everything I tried just got better and better.

Over the years, I've not liked Chinese Food, Thai Food, Sushi, Bluegrass, Opera and Classical Music, among other things.

It's been a fun ride of similarly mind blowing experiences when someone has rightfully told me that I'm an idiot and here, open the hangar and let something new wing it's way into your piehole.

So, it's time for Old Movies to have a go.  The simple tonnage of things I don't know, to borrow a line from West Wing, would stun a team of oxen in it's tracks.  I get that, but old movies have been boring for me.  At least the 14 minutes of them in total that I've watched in between endless stints of car chases and explosions.

Of course there are exceptions.  I lost a bet to my wife and she made me watch On the Waterfront (1954).  OK I'll give you that one, great movie.  Part of my issue is that, for me, movie watching is all about expectations and there are two basic categories:

One: I want explosions and car chases and popcorn.  92 minutes of escapist fun.  Dialogue and plot are optional, I really don't care.  It has to be truly, truly bad, before a movie will irritate me if I've put it in bucket number one.

Two: I want to see something really good.  True Grit, Gladiator, A Few Good Men, Raising Arizona, Dark Knight, 3:10 to Yuma, The Shawshank Redemption, Unbreakable, Gran Torino... you get the idea.  I want a score that is genius, I want camera work that looks like a series of paintings, I want dialogue that Shakespeare would smile at, I want a plot that isn't a bad retelling of something done better 400 years ago.  I want to be challenged and surprised and I want to mull it over for a few days before I feel like I get it.

And surprisingly often, that happens.  People are making good movies from time to time.  As long as I'm not confused about which category movie I'm watching, I'm good to go.

I really enjoyed the Star Wars films.  They were bucket number one.  I'm not there for dialogue or philosophical revelation.  I'm there for special effects, light sabers and at some point, a girl with cinnamon rolls on her head (last movie had that accomplished in 4minutes 11seconds).  I get those things and I'm golden.

I really hated the last Matrix movie.  I thought it was going to be bucket #2, but instead it was a giant digital hairball that lasted for two hours and violated every great thing about the first two movies.  Even during the movie, someone I was with said, out loud, "this sucks" and the room applauded that assessment.   I WAS there for a philosophical revelation, and all I got was a monkey throwing his own poo at the screen.

It felt like the writers died, and brought in their crazy cousin Eddie to finish the screen play.  Boo.

But alas, my simple movie going world is about to get taken off the rails.  I know this because I've avoided old movies like I avoid flu shots. 

I know people that I love and trust who adore dozens, hundreds of old movies and go on and on about how great they are.  It's been on my list of things to do (appreciate old movies better), but I haven't dug in, because I knew I would get sucked in to this weird little world... and because I really didn't know where to start.

Second problem solved.  My friend Cole, purveyor of vitagraph, american and writer of things you should know about movies at http://vitagraphamerican.blogspot.com/ has taken my plea for help and generated a starting list of old movies for Karen and I to watch.  The notion is called the "queue de grace" and basically involves turning over your viewing of movies for a period of time over to some crazy person, and then writing about them.  It's a cool idea and Cole has done this a couple of times on his blog.

He's a talented movie critic, who is making all the noises of an expert in the field.  It will be a matter of time before someone pays him to do this full time, or there is no justice in the earth. 

The reverse queue was also a rousing success (at least it was delightful to me) in watching Cole generate a list for Thomas Lazlo, 8 year old and author of http://awesome9000.blogspot.com/?zx=78bfe3fed5e0a9b9.

So here we go, I'll get as close to a single week as I can in watching these and responding... and will do my best to trick Karen into posting as well.  The queue is:

the third man (1949)
the general (1926)
my man godfrey (1936)
brief encounter (1945)
m (1931)
laura (1944)
the bride of frankenstein (1935)
the battle of algiers (1966)
the exiles (1961)
a man for all seasons (1966)
arsenic and old lace (1944)
the wages of fear (1953)

I don't like fish.  I especially don't like sea bass from the Chart House, here in Old Town Alexandria.

And I don't like old movies. 

I figured I would get that in one last time, before my ill informed and ridiculously prejudiced opinions get crushed by irritating people who think they can show me something really cool that I don't already know.