Thursday, 28 August 2014

Things you Can't tell your Best Friend

Google image - just for fun, not my friend

Knowing that my best friend is a lover of pop music, I suggested we go to the movie version of "The Four Seasons & Frankie Valli" before the school holidays kick in next week and there will be nothing for us to watch. I forgot that she likes to sing along with whatever music is playing around her, at home or in public. I forgot that she is tone deaf.  I wonder if that means that people with this affliction are completely unaware that they are aurally challenged? Although this resulted in me wincing my way through most of the music, I suffered in silence, just made a note to self to learn how to screen out extraneous sounds and how to concentrate on those one wishes to hear. Children and teenagers have this skill re their parents' voices, so it can't be too difficult. Having said that, I have an equally annoying trait - I often fall asleep in the dark, seductive atmosphere of the cinema no matter how exciting the film, and I snore quite a bit.  Friends used to tease me about this, but now that we are all past menopause and some, like me,  battle to sleep at night, they are more understanding.  It's a bit like marriage, a lot of give and take between friends. A discreet elbow in my ribs is usually enough to solve the problem and as long as I've had 'forty winks', I will last the rest of the movie. It was really good, by the way. A real trip down memory lane. The only small point to mention is that I thought I was going to see a film about The Beach Boys. I somehow thought they had the same sound.

1 comment:

  1. I do that nap thing in the theaters too. But I must say I have never broke into song in a theater.

    The greatest moment I had in a theater was during the conception scene in Rosmary's Baby. I went with my mother and sister. My mother was a prude extraordinaire and the nudity and implied sex was too much for her. So what does she do? She starts hysterically laughing. I mean like howling at the top of her lungs. From that point on I vowed never to take my mother to a theater again. It was when drive-in were still popular, and I made good on my vow.