Phah! Kids! Ha! (That’s my ration of exclamation marks until November.)

When kids are young they like repetition. If a game’s great, play it again. If they like a book or story, read it again. No, let’s try this one, darling. NOOOOOO, WANT DAT ONE ‘GEN. You know what its like. You’ve read the Hungry fucking Caterpillar every fucking night for three fucking months and you’re desperate for either a new story or for the caterpillar to turn into a moth and get beaten to death with a rolled-up newspaper. But no, that’s THE book of the moment, that’s what we read. Grrrrrrrr.

Same with videos. Remember videos? We used them sparingly, in a (as it turned out, as it always is) failed effort to see the tv as something different, a new game, something sparing. Not as the default for all day and night. How’d that work for you?

Anyway, the girls, when young, were allowed the ‘treat’ of tv when all else was done or I got bored of reading the Hungry Caterpillar, or so Mel & I could get drunk secretly in the kitchen, whatever. And they would choose the video.

When they were about 10 and 7, it was Mary Poppins. And only Mary Poppins. Again and again and again. And I’m trying to read the paper and I’ve got Dick Van Dyke’s nauseating faux-cockney as my soundtrack, or the oh so sickly sweet voice of Julie Andrews feeding the fucking birds for tuppence a fucking bag.

So after sufficient time elapsed and I got ever nearer to wielding the pick-axe handle at the tv just thinking about the word supercalafragalistic… I introduced something new to them. For their education. And growth. And enlightenment. I played them MY favourite movie.

The Blues Brothers.

The perfect film. It has amazing music, excitement, car chases, its achingly funny and great fun. Ok, and has quite a bit of swearing, some very stylised violence and lots of abuse. But kids have to learn that shit some time, right?

They loved it. But like LOVED IT. For the next year that was ‘the movie’, ‘the video’, the ‘let’s watch tv’.

My mother wasn’t so impressed with it the first time she sat with them and John Belushi swore at someone. She was shocked. ‘Do you think the girls should be watching that, Andrew?’ she inquired, ever the lady, ever the non-interferer, ever wonderful, and never-ever ‘Andy’. ‘Do you think its appropriate???’

Yeah. I do. I did. I think its very appropriate. You’re never too young to appreciate a totally brilliant movie. Which came on last night on some low-end channel just as I was going to bed. And I just had to watch ‘a bit’, just had to. For the brilliance of Belushi, Aykroyd, Landis, for the memory of the girls long ago, and for my mother. Who is probably still disapproving of it from her heavenly perch.

We’ve got a half a tank of gas, a full pack of cigarettes and its 170 miles to Chicago.

Hit it.

A xxxx