Didn’t learn this from me. (at Kona Grill)
On Monday I forced myself to stay up until 1:30 a.m. Tuesday so that I might step outside and gaze upon the Blood Moon in all it’s glory.
I had Netflix open in my browser and based on prior movies I’d watched, Netflix “suggested” I’d like Over the Top. Yes, that arm-wrestling movie with the backwards hats.
It was late and I was bored, so, “Why not?”
The movie dredged up memories I hadn’t thought about in 27 years. It seems that when I watched that movie’s first-run at the Linden 3 theatre in Caldwell, Idaho when i was 15, that even at that age, I realized just how bad that movie is.
And even though it is strange to me that I had mentally blocked this knowledge for 27 long years, it still isn’t the worst part of all this.
The worst part is how long it took me to remember how bad that movie is. By the time the credits rolled beneath the waves of crappy credits music, I clicked my browser closed and scurried off to bed, completely forgetting about the lunar eclipse.
I missed the Blood Moon because I watched Over the Top. You stole a piece of my life away, Sylvester Stallone. You stole it…away.
Ladies Night at the horse track.