Collected conversations

Mom, looking at me: You've grown yourself quite a gut!
A.: [Shrug]
Mom: [Shakes her head, gives me a 'that's impressive' look]

***
In the course of our walk yesterday we happened upon a beautifully lit patch of river. I took a picture with my phone, showed my parents. Dad asked me to flip through the other pictures in the phone, one of which showed Gracie emerging from a tarp under which she'd crawled.

A.: Isn't she cute?
Dad: She is.
Mom: I love how you're trying to find positive things about her.
A.: What do you mean?
Mom: I mean, you're grasping at whatever basic qualities she might have.
A.: Um, she can be annoying, but she's a good cat.
Mom: I think she's dumb.
A.: [Shrug]

***
Last night, after dinner, I joined my parents in the living room, where the weather channel was showing in the background. I grabbed my New Yorker, which I'd had trouble getting into at home but into which I'd managed to make some headway when I was cleaning up mom's computer and waiting for things to load/open/happen. I flipped through various channels, none of which were showing anything worthwhile, and figured "Spiderman 3" was best suited for background. I left it on mute, even after my parents got off the phone with dad's cousin.

Mom: What's happening?
A.: I don't know, mom. I haven't seen this movie.
Mom: Who's that?
A.: I don't know.
Mom: Why did he do that?
A.: I don't know. Would you like me to put the sound on?
Dad: No, it's more fun this way.

I would occasionally look up. Mom would ask if I had any doubt whether good would conquer evil on TV. I explained that that wasn't why people watched action movies, much less played them in the background on mute.

I finished
Philip Gourvitch's article on efforts to preserve an ecosystem in Mozambique. And plotted an ecotourist trip in my head, with the travel budget of my dreams. And moved on to an essay on Chaucer's role in shaping English literature for centuries to come.

The movie ended; I flipped some, stopped on the familiar sight of the Archives metro stop in DC. I didn't recognize the movie, but I was intrigued. It turned out to be "National Treasure."

Mom: What's "dveedre"?
A.: What??
Mom: "Dveedre"?

She shows me the article she's reading.
A.: "Twitter."
Mom; That's what I said.
A.: I'll tell you when it goes to commercial.
Mom: Do you really care what happens?
A.: Well, I am quasi-watching the film.

Mom: Who's that?
A.: I don't know.
Mom: Have you seen this before?
A.: No.
Mom: You don't have a TV at all?
A.: No.
Mom: No wonder you become addicted when you're here.
A.: Um, I wouldn't say I'm addicted. I'd say I find this film, flawed as it is, more exciting than the weather channel.

Mom: Who are all those people?
A.: I don't know, mom.

This continued for the duration of the film, or another hour and a half. I read my magazine and looked up from time to time. Sometimes I even turned the sound on.

Mom: What are they doing now?
A.: Mom!

It wasn't just that I'd not seen the film before, or that I'd been watching it for as long as she had. It was that her questions were about as answerable as the one she asked at dinner the other night: what do you know, in a nutshell, about Russian history? Or the one she asked years ago at breakfast: do you really think we could have evolved from an ameoba? Actually, those questions are even more annoying, because the asker is being lazy and manipulative, and putting you in a position to work to get back to substance. But asking someone what's going on in a movie is still plenty annoying: even films of minimal plot can't be summed up easily. If you care about what's happening, watch the f*ing movie. If you don't, stop asking me.

Mom: Seems like a dumb movie. Where are they? What are they doing?
A.: [Shrug]

I finished the Chaucer piece, read a few more things, skimmed some others. I turned the sound on. The movie was coming to an end.

Mom: Seems like a pretty dumb movie. Don't you think it's a dumb movie?
A.: Yes, it's a pretty dumb movie.

Pause

Mom: Seems like a dumb movie.
A.: WE ALL KNOW IT'S A DUMB MOVIE, MOM. Enough, already! You don't need to note, every two minutes, that it's a dumb movie. I'm not looking to it to grow my mind. When you're channel flipping, on mute, on a Sunday night, you're not looking for a masterpiece.
Mom: I do not keep saying it! I only said it once!
A.: Well, no one is fighting you on the point. Now let it go.

I'm really hoping to find "Zoolander" playing on some channel or another over the next few days.