The Things We Do for Love

This past weekend, along with just a handful of other men and what seemed like every woman over 29, I went to see “Sex and the City” with my wife. We had some dinner in Boulder and then caught the show at the Cinemark theater. As my friend Kirk puts it, I took one for “the team.”
What may have been even funnier (or sadder) than the movie were the previews. Its felt like every chick-flick coming out in the next six to twelve months had a preview showing before the main attraction. There was a preview for “He’s Just Not That Into You”, “The Accidental Husband”, “Mama Mia”, and “Brideshead Revisited.” By the time the actual movie started I felt like I’d be run through the chipper and spit out, only to have two more hours of chick flix action coming at me head on like a freight train. The only thing that would have made it any worse would have been sitting through a few dozen commercials for feminine hygiene products! Where were the previews for “Indiana Jones”? “The Incredible Hulk”? “Beverly Hills Chihuahua”!?

Lucky for me I’ve got a Blackberry cell phone, complete with a built-in web browser. The Blackberry is what 90% of the business world used before the iPhone came along. Anyway… I grabbed my phone and punched in the address for ESPN.com. I needed something, anything, that would keep me from losing all contact with the “man world” before I was immersed in the comedic tragedy that is the life of Carrie Bradshaw and her three New York City amigos.
I found the box scores for that day’s baseball games and immediately consumed them all in one bite. I hoped that if I filled up on sports news I could hold my breath and somehow make it through the next 2+ hours being bombarded by a movie that concentrates on shopping for shoes, buying couture dresses, and all the heartache men bring to a relationship

[WARNING: Movie spoiler. Skip to the P.S. now if you haven’t seen the movie yet and then come back a read this section later.] This movie does nothing more than show men as uncaring, inconsiderate, and incapable of living in a committed relationship. The biggest culprit of all is “Big”, Carrie’s on-again-off-again (on-again, off again, etc.) boyfriend of ten years. Minutes before his (3rd) marriage to Carrie he gets cold feet and zooms off in the back of the limo. At that point in the movie there were just a handful of dry eyes (yes, mine), some weeping, and some cursing. One lady yelled out “that jerk!” to which the rest of the women in the audience replied “yeah!” I was scared. If Big didn’t fix things before the end of the movie I thought there was a good chance I might not make it out alive.

[WARNING: More spoilers] Then there was “Steve”, Miranda’s husband. The bartender married to a Manhattan lawyer. He steps out of line (sleeps with another woman) and the fury of a woman scorned is unleashed on him by his wife…AND every women in the movie theater. I could feel hundreds of eyes looking in my direction, burning with fury that I could share the same gender with Steve. If I wanted to get a nasty glaring looks from a lot of women, I’d rather not have to pay for it. I was not comfortable in that theater. I needed to hit the eject button and get out of there fast. Where’s a good old fire in the theater when you need one.
Fortunately, Samantha and Charlotte, the other two of the three NYC amigos, had minor issues in the movie and didn’t cause the kind of dramatic response that Carrie and Miranda’s problems caused. In fact, they were the comedic relief to the over-the-top drama. Thank you Samantha and Charlotte.

As I sat there, wondering if Big would save me, I thought to myself “what I need right now is a week at “Man Camp”! A week where I can wear the same jeans, not shave, go fishing every afternoon, play poker every night, and learn how to fix complicated things like a carburetor, a transmission, or a hot tub. I wanted to be in a place where men that love their wives and do the right things every day are appreciated. No, I don’t want to go to Promise Keepers camp. I just wanted to get away from a movie that demonizes men and portrays them as the root of all relationship evil.

In the end Big came through and saved the day for every poor schmoe guy sitting in that movie theater. Carrie and her crew lived happily ever after - shopping for shoes, attending fashion shows, and drinking cosmopolitans. As for me, I cannot wait to go see Indiana Jones!!!
P.S. - Congratulations to Nederdance Studio’s Ballet 1 and Ballet 2 classes on a flawless recital last Saturday. Thanks to the folks that volunteered their time to put together the Gilpin Classic golf event – I can’t wait to drive my first shot into the creek again next year. Finally, happy birthday to my good buddy Kirk, the Big Johnson!