My husband is a movie fanatic. First, the back story: He and our son designed an amazing home theater system with enough subwoofer power to shake pictures off the walls. Of course, we have nothing but sound panels on the walls and they won’t shake. In fact, our living room could be an ad for sound panels, especially the corners, which all have triangular-shaped sound buffers. I had the dubious pleasure of sewing covers for these triangular prisms. The ambiance is enhanced by speakers that stand like sentinels around the room, guarding the furniture which must be placed at a precise ratio from each sentinel and the giant screen. That’s why our furniture is huddled about 6 feet from the walls. Did I mention that our living room looks odd?
You know the line: If you build it, the action movies will come. For my husband, that means films with enough bombs and blasts to shatter glass. I do love action movies but how many times can he watch Band of Brothers? Is there a war film he hasn’t seen? Picture this. He has a group of guys watching a blast-em-up movie, while I have the women in our secondary “theater,” trying to follow intense, emotional dialog. We have sound panels, too, but they are shaking as machine gun fire from the adjacent room interrupts a tender moment, a weeping woman. I jack up the sound but ours isn’t Dolby Digital 5.1. We have the .1. I am close to becoming the weeping woman.
Because my husband loves me, he will indulge my preferences for movies if they don’t include animals or teachers. Hmm. We start a sci fi movie where the animals are cleverly disguised as aliens, but he isn’t fooled for a moment. He darts out of the room while I ask, “Should I pause it?” I already know the answer: “Please don’t! I am trying to get through this as quickly as possible!” My husband returns with his computer and does this amazing thing with his eyes. He appears to watch the movie but is typing away and reading his favorite political blogs. It’s ventriloquism with eyes instead of words. What a guy!