On TCB

As you get older, you realize you've had an inflated sense of yourself for some time. Well, at least I have. I've always thought of myself as incredibly organized, nice to a fault and the ultimate caretaker.

In the past few years, the laundry piles up higher and higher before I get to it. The bathroom only gets cleaned when guests come over. I've been a supreme bitch to co-workers. And pets, well, I've had some bad luck. Let's leave it at that.

What I'm trying to say is that I don't think I take care of "stuff" very well. Like how I waited almost a year to get my last haircut and how I haven't been to the dentist in.. um.. nevermind. Much to my surprise, however, the residents of Northern Virginia, check that, the patrons of AMC Hoffman Center, have really been giving me a run for my money.

A week ago I went with my boyfriend and a couple of his co-workers to go see Rambo. Why? I dunno. Something about face time with the guys where I could seem cool without having to say anything cool. Anyway, as we sat waiting for the previews for upcoming gems like Midnight Meat Train, I watched a family walk in.. mom, dad, two kids.. yes, two kids.. aged, I'm guessing, 6 and 8.

Rambo is among the most violent movies I've ever seen. My guy found a handy dandy chart that compares all of the Rambos, this latest one included, kill for kill, blood squirting head for blood squirting head, and this version makes the other Rambos combined look pretty tame. No matter what, however, you know what you're getting into with this movie, and I'm quite certain mom and dad knew Hannah Montana wouldn't be making a cameo. Though I'm sure there are plenty of parents who would enjoy seeing her pelted with machine gun ammo.. I digress.

As if that wasn't enough, as if that wasn't worthy enough of a nudge to my companions, as the previews began, yet another family walked in.. with a toddler. Yes, a toddler. At Rambo. And by toddler, I mean the kid had clearly just started walking by himself.

I was so distracted I nearly missed the snake hunting in the opening scene.

I was appalled and, quite frankly, pretty upset. It all brings me back to the argument about how you need a license to have a dog, but anyone can have a kid. Really? You all just HAD to see Rambo so much one of you wasn't willing to stay home with the kid? Or are you just hoping those positive messages about non-violence will seep through to your child?

And speaking of dogs..

Our next trek to the Hoffman Center was last night, in a failed attempt to see Michael Clayton (we saw the movie, just at another theater with an even later show). We then heard a dog barking as we neared the parking lot on the return trip to the car. Sure enough, balancing himself between the driver and the passenger's seat in a white Lexus SUV was a dog. Bark. Bark. Bark. He wanted out. And while it wasn't frigid last night, it was pretty cold just the same. The dog's owners had left him in the car while they took in a movie.

Now, as much as I want a dog, I don't pretend to know how difficult it is to have one. Oh, and the kid, don't even get me started. But these two examples of how NOT to take care of living, and in some instances, impressionable, things are pretty much no brainers in my book. It makes me angry and it breaks my heart.

I hope the dog peed in your Lexus SUV, crappy dog owners. And I hope when you're getting attacked by Burmese military, crappy parents, your kids opt not to save your silly American butts.