Thursday, September 24, 2009


posted Sun, 15 Aug 2004

The Metallica movie is actually pretty good. It might have been even better if I had known anything about the band before I saw the movie. I had heard the name, but couldn’t have named a single one of their songs. I don’t know if I’ve even ever heard them before.

But if I had known more about the band, I might not have seen all the Spinal Tap-esque elements of the movie. It’s actually pretty funny to watch a bunch of heavy metal musicians go through group therapy together, talking about “respecting boundaries” and playing with their toddlers in one frame and then whipping their long hair around in a frenzy on stage in the next.

The drummer’s dad couldn’t have been scripted. Mr Ulrich is an old Danish guy with an accent a cross between “Hogan’s Heroes” and the Norwegian guys on “Prairie Home Companion.” He had long grey hair and a long, straggly beard. He and Lars (the drummer) are out in the country. The dad is wearing old khaki shorts and a gray t-shirt. He is doing weird stretches in the background while Lars talks to Phil, the therapist the band is paying $40,000 a month to work with them. The next scene, the dad is listening to one of Lars’ new songs. When he tells Lars that he would “delete” that song, you can see Lars’ face fall. Here he is, this big macho heavy metal drummer, but his dad’s opinion still matters to him. It’s kind of sweet – and kind of sad that the dad is so blunt.

It’s also really interesting to watch the creative process – the movie was filmed during the making of their most recent album – even though all their songs sounded alike to me. I wasn’t converted to being a fan, but I enjoyed the flick nonetheless.

I read the wedding announcements in the Sunday paper every week. I don’t expect to read about anyone I know, as I have lived in M’town less than five years and didn’t go to school here, but occasionally, I’ll be surprised and recognize a name. The psychologist whose dogs peed on Leigh’s presents at the shower she gave for Leigh got married a few weeks ago. Apparently, she did not have her dogs pee on her own wedding shower presents.

This morning, I saw that Beauregard M. got married. I had a blind date with him a few years ago. There was never a second date, but well, that’s how things go. Didn’t flatter me, but didn’t break my heart, either.

Sometimes, I realize that I’ve dodged a bullet when I learn about an ex-beau (ha! No pun intended, but it worked, didn’t it?) gets married. I ran into one such guy – Bubba – in the grocery store last year. Maybe two years ago? Anyhow, we started chatting. What have you been up to, yada yada. We had gone out only a few times before he discovered I was 1) Catholic (his family didn’t like Catholics, he told me) and 2) smarter than he was (apparently, that bothered him). But I hadn’t been that interested, so it didn’t faze me when he stopped calling. I did, however, wonder my friend Lex hadn’t told me that he knew Bubba was a hound dog BEFORE I went out with him.

Anyhow. He tells me that he is now married with a new baby! I was astonished. It must have been a quick romance and true love, I said, because he and I had gone out for the last time only about ten months before that.

“She got pregnant and we had to get married,” he explained.

Well. That’s certainly an interesting bit of information to give to someone outside your family. He went on to say that he now had a little stepdaughter, too – that his wife already had a child when they met.

That’s when I guessed that this new baby was no accident. Bubba’s family is quite well off. This chick saw gold and went for it. You don’t get ‘accidentally’ pregnant once you have already become an unwed mother. I wonder if his family likes having a gold-digger any better than having a Catholic.

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