Road Apples by Tim Sanders
Feb. 14, 2011

Bad weather and even worse movies

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I take blood thinning medication (Coumadin) daily. This is due to my prosthetic aortic heart valve, composed of carbon, graphite, titanium, and some other high quality stuff, all held in place by a large wad of pre-chewed Wrigley’s Spearmint gum. Without the blood thinner, my high-tech valve would clog up and, after a few days of walking ever more slowly and speaking with a decided slur, I’d grind to a complete halt. Coumadin goes under the generic name of Warfarin, which is, basically, rat poison. And although my dosage is much too small to kill a 180 lb. rat like me, and although I’m very thankful for my rat poison, it still has three negative side effects:


1. If you are a clumsy oaf like me, you may unintentionally hit your arm on a door jam while throwing a brick at a cat. This will result in a large, decorative, purple bruise which lasts for two or three weeks.

2. My blood thinner also makes me a bit chilly at times. And when the temperature outside drops dramatically, I notice it more than most normal human beings do. By which I mean human beings with normal blood.

3. Most importantly, my blood-thinning, bone-chilling Coumadin affects me psychologically. It makes me want to track Al Gore down, transport him to warm, sunny Alabama, strip him to his boxer shorts and black socks, strap him to a chair on my deck, and give him a nice, refreshing glass of iced tea during our next snowy episode of manmade arctic global warming.


Yeah, I know that my attitude is wrong. I know that Al Gore has won a Nobel Prize and an Academy Award, and a Grammy and a Tony and the Kentucky Derby and a Dancing with the Stars trophy and a Super Bowl ring and plaudits from California to Cairo for his work inventing the Internet, but awards and prizes mean nothing. Neither Cary Grant, Peter O’Toole, nor Barbara Stanwyck, for example, ever won a single Academy Award. Sally Field, on the other hand, who spent her formative years gliding into plate glass windows as The Flying Nun, has won a couple of them. And if I’m not mistaken, a Nobel Prize for her humanitarian work with Burt Reynolds in “Smokey and the Bandit II.”

Al Gore would contend (and probably has) that sure, manmade global warming (MMGW) might well result in a bitterly cold 20-degree drop in temperatures for a winter or two, but that would only be nature’s way of lulling us all into a false sense of security before turning up the global thermostat an entire one-tenth of a degree over the next 100 years. I’ve done a little research on the subject, and here are some other things which may be attributed to MMGW:


• unusually warm temperatures

• unusually cold temperatures

• unusually moderate temperatures

• extremely large amounts of precipitation (flooding)

• extremely small amounts of precipitation (drought)

• extremely normal amounts of precipitation (dew)

• increase in seismic activity (earthquakes)

• decrease in seismic activity (lack of earthquakes)

• snow

• no snow

• some snow, but not enough for a decent snowman

• way too many hurricanes and tornadoes

• not nearly enough hurricanes and tornadoes

• more (or less) UFO activity

• more (or less) Lindsay Lohan shoplifting activity

• more Hip Hop ... music? (There will probably never be any less.)


When by definition the results of global warming will inevitably be ... well, just whatever you want them to be, it’s mighty hard to prove, or disprove, the theory. All I know is that when renowned climatologists like Al promise global warming, a lot of us old coots on blood thinner expect a little ... a little WARMTH!


And here’s something else, something completely unrelated to global warming, which has been bugging me. Consider these two seemingly contradictory statements:


1. “Death at a Funeral” is one of the best movies I’ve ever seen!

2. “Death at a Funeral” is one of the worst movies I’ve ever seen!


The explanation, of course, is that in 2007 a hilarious movie called “Death at a Funeral” was released. It was written by British screenwriter Dean Craig, directed by Frank Oz, and starred several British actors I’d never heard of. Matthew Macfadyen and Rupert Graves played two brothers trying to maintain a bit of dignity throughout the farce that their father’s funeral had devolved into. Needless to say, given an initial casket mixup, some problems with drug overdoses, an elderly Uncle Alfie with bowel problems, and a larcenous achondroplastic dwarf, the brothers were not successful. This movie was exceptionally well done, and the typically British comic timing was seamless.

Although the movie was only three years old, by 2010 Hollywood had run out of ideas and decided to do a remake. The American version of “Death at a Funeral” was directed by someone named Neil LaBute, and starred Chris Rock and Martin Lawrence as the hapless brothers. Uncle Alfie had become Uncle Russell, and was played by Danny Glover.

Marilyn and I watched the new version the other night on one of those premium movie channels. It stunk on ice. The only common denominator was the part of the dwarf, which was played by Peter Dinklage in both movies. Oddly enough, while he was funny in the 2007 version, by 2010 he’d obviously lost some enthusiasm, and needed a shave. With or without a shave, he was recognizable by his height (4'5") and the fact that he looks almost exactly like Garrison Keillor, the “Prairie Home Companion” guy, would look if he were standing in a hole.

I’d sooner have root canal work done with a claw hammer and an ice pick than watch that remake again. So if you are one of those to whom I recommended “Death at a Funeral,” there’s a caveat. Don’t watch version II. Remakes almost always stink.

But that won’t stop me from watching the remake of “True Grit” with Jeff Bridges in the John Wayne role. People who’ve already seen the remake assure me that no, Glen Campbell does not reprise his Texas Ranger role, and that there’s not even one achondroplastic dwarf proudly riding a Great Dane across the Western plains. That’s good enough for me.