Academy Award

I sit with my daughter and my girlfriend
in a Westwood Village movie house.
the movie has gotten excellent reviews
but as it continues
each scene is predictable
it’s just one long platitude
but the audience is enjoying
it
but I am thinking
my god
there is still an hour and
15 minutes left.
I say to my daughter and
girlfriend:
“listen, do you really think we
should stay?”
“well, if you like it,” says my
daughter.
“yes, if you like it,” says my
girlfriend.
“I was only staying because I
thought you both liked it,”
I say.
“I was staying for the same reason,”
says my daughter.
“likewise,” says my girlfriend.
we get up and walk out of
there.
it is such a splendid thing:
there is no law that we have to
stay–
they have our money
but we have escaped an hour and
15 minutes of
trying to get our money’s
worth.
the movie
a trafic historical depiction
of the 1930’s
will probably win an
Academy Award
but the car looks so very good
in the parking lot
and driving off we laugh about
it
again and again
as if we had seen a very good
comedy
which is exactly what tragedy
becomes
when it’s badly done.

it was a perfect evening
and we drove toward the
beach.