I Was Smart on Wednesday, Now I'm Stupid Again.

Sometimes you just need to shake up the ol’ brainwaves with a little bit of culture. My mind, being heavily saturated with lighter -than -Lindsay Lohan television viewing was in need of such a mental jostling. I decided to take in a foreign film at my local liberry…I mean library. Say what they will about Las Vegas, but their Clark County Library system is the finest I’ve ever seen. Wednesday night they were showing a French-Canadian flick called “Wolves in the Woods,” or something like that. It was a dark yet stimulating murder-suspense movie that reminded me of a cross between Fargo and Charade. The cinematography was great-it had a damp, shadowy feel to it. See how smart I sound? Plus it was in French. Everyone knows that the French (even the Canadian French) are incapable of producing anything BUT thought provoking cinema. (Darn those pretentious, America-hating cheese heads!!!) Following the showing, there was a discussion led by a man with thinning hair and trendy faded jeans. Oh yes, I was amongst intellectuals, listening to the discussion, even commenting occasionally. For a brief, shining moment I was one of those smart people that goes to see foreign movies and discusses them with other smart people. It was great! Then of course, like Eve I blew my intellectual Garden of Eden by eating some forbidden fruit. I came home last night from an evening with my brother Kurt and his lovely wife Elizabeth. I needed a snack, so I fixed some delicious nachos-my signature snack. Something told me not to turn the TV…but I didn’t listen. I ended up watching a Three’s Company marathon until my eyes were glazed and a lazy smile was drooped across my salsa stained lips. Suddenly, I realized that watching Suzanne Sommers and John Ritter (God rest his adorable soul) fumble through comic sequences so absurd they could only be a product of 1982, the year humor died…or at least took a long nap, that the knowledge I had gained from my previous night of hobnobbing with smarty pants was draining from my mind. One can tell just by reading that last sentence, a horrible, horrible run-on, that clearly I am no smarter than I was before I saw those crazy Canadians running around, speaking French and flashing their boobies. Arrrgh-I just used the word boobies. Point illustrated…better plan another activity to get my smarts back. I think I’ll start by having my cable disconnected…