Blog #493                                August 20, 2026

 

Movie Review: The movie SIX was a filmed production of the live musical performed in London.  SIX is the story of the six wives of Henry VIII.  Henry was the English monarch from 1509 to 1547, the father of Queen Elizabeth I and a song by Herman’s Hermits.  The cast consisted of six women, each playing one of the wives, and they sang and danced energetically while telling their stories.  They were very good.  But, as George Bernard Shaw said, "England and America are two countries separated by a common language", and it was very difficult to understand what these girls were saying.  What few words we did understand, however, made it clear that the whole emphasis of the show was a celebration of Woman Power and how pusillanimous men are.  By the way, every member of the musical band was a woman.  So, if you’re looking for a Women’s Lib “high”, go for it.  You’ll enjoy the exuberant vivacity of the cast, but you won’t understand much of what they’re saying.

 

We are going out to dinner tonight.  I asked where we were going and my lovely bride said, “We’re going to Lester’s; be ready at 6:30.  Wear the khaki pants and the pink shirt.  You’re getting the chef salad no onions, no cucumbers. And don’t slow down for any yellow lights.”  I’m wondering -- why exactly does she need me to go?  I bet if I dressed a mannequin in the khaki pants and the pink shirt, she wouldn’t even know the difference.  She’d probably just say, You acted like a dummy tonight.

 

Hi there and welcome to Blog #493.  Man, these numbers are getting big.  Where does the time go?  It feels like just yesterday I was picking out my own clothes and deciding what I wanted to eat for dinner.  I hope you’re feeling well.

 

And speaking of movies, how about a story? You have nothing else to do.  As Shakespeare would say, a tale told by an idiot.  This happened a couple of years ago, when Carol said we were going to a movie.  I didn’t know which movie we were going to see, but it didn’t much matter.  I dropped her at the entrance.  Every morning she crawls, climbs and stomps around the house doing yoga-esque contortions and smiling like Richard Simmons on speed.  Then she hops on the treadmill for multiple miles.  But it is apparently too much of an effort for her to walk from the parking lot to the entrance.  So I dropped her.  Prince Charming! 

 

She bought two tickets, and when I entered, she handed me one and went to the ladies’ room.  I got a glass of water, showed the attendant the ticket that said Film A, and was directed to Theater 4.  I went in.  No Carol.  I picked a seat and waited.  No Carol.  I watched the coming trailers – all 827 of them.  At which point Carol entered and, in a voice loud enough to be heard in Istanbul, said, “You’re in the wrong theater!”  The patrons began to chuckle mercilessly as I slinked sheepishly out to follow my wife to a different theater.  And how, I hear you snicker, had I wound up in the wrong theater when my ticket clearly said the movie that was playing there?  Well, they printed Film A when she bought the tickets even though she wanted to see Film B.  No big deal; she just went to the theater showing Film B.  EXCEPT SHE FAILED TO TELL HER POOR DUMB HUSBAND.   And now everyone in the county is talking about the ignorant namby-pamby who couldn’t find the right theater and his skinny wife who had to come rescue him.  I think tonight I’ll just wear a sign that says USELESS SLOB.  Best to warn everybody up front.  See, a tale told by an idiot.  That Shakespeare was pretty smart.

 

I don’t really understand why she didn’t tell me where to go.  She does it all the time.  In fact, she and all her buttinsky ancestors have been telling men where to go, what to say and how to live their lives all throughout history.  For instance,

 

“No, Chris, don’t pick the first New World you see.  Let’s keep looking.  Maybe we’ll find one on sale.” 

 

“No, Abe, you don’t need to waste time shopping now.  Let’s go see a play.  And wear that tall hat”

 

“Forget it, Arthur, see if they have a round table.”

 

“Adam, put down that candy bar – too much fat.  Have an apple instead.”

 

“Sorry, Attila, I need more room.  You’ll have to move your clothes to Europe.  Thanks, Hun.”

 

“What did God offer you, Moses, eight commandments?  Go back up there.  See if you can get ten.”

 

Message from Shakespeare:  The play’s the thing (Hamlet).  Pops keeps talking about that other Shakespeare.  Who cares about some dumb old poet that nobody can understand when you can have a soft, intelligent cat?  I’ll bet there are more people reading this message right now than are reading Hamlet.  Purr. 

 

Let’s talk about something other than my wife, like Foreign Accent Syndrome.  Yes, there actually is such a thing.  Trust me.  Google it.  I just love Google.  The entire knowledge of Mankind is on Google.  Or should that be Womankind?  Personkind? Himandherkind?  Oh, who gives a rat’s Google?

 

Foreign Accent Syndrome (FAS) occurs when someone has a head injury and responds by talking with an unfamiliar foreign accent.  There have been cases with British, Chinese and Hungarian accents following blows to the head.  Honest!  I know this one is harder to accept than Anthony Fauci saying, I’m not in it for the money, but it’s true.

                            

There once was a fellow named Dennis

Who fell down one day playing tennis

The trauma and stress

Gave the guy FAS

And he talks now like Jose Jimenez.

 

How about a Weekly Word?  It’s namby-pamby, and it means a feeble person lacking in strength or courage.

 

Well, this poor player has strutted and fretted his hour upon the stage and is ready to wind it up.  That was more BS (Bill Shakespeare).  Go on, read Hamlet or Macbeth between now and next week.  You’ll like it.  And there’s going to be a pop quiz.  Don’t forget to count your blessings and try to stay well.

 

Michael                                    Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com