Two Things I’ve learned from Fred Rogers

Confession: I don’t like going to movie theaters. And by “don’t like” I do mean detest.

I know, I know, some of you are already wondering how we can even be friends anymore. But I just cant stand it, y’all. It’s too dark and too loud, and the screen is too big and it hurts my ever-aging eyes and ears. The floor is sticky and the smell of over-salted, over-buttered popcorn catches in my throat, taunting me to breathe deeply without coughing.

There is not a single movie I wouldn’t wait for to come out on DVD so I could watch it on a moderately-sized screen, on my comfy couch with reasonable lighting and volume choices. Of course, this would all take place whilst wearing stretchy pants, shoeless feet kicked up on a cushion and hair in the messiest of updos. The smell of popcorn would be replaced with the wafting aroma of fantastically-seasoned curry. Away with the sugar-laden soda; in its place would be a stemless oversized glass of smoky, fruity Malbec. Now then. THEN. I will be ready to watch a movie.

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