So I've recently been sick with the flu. Not just "the flu", but "THE HEAD-POUNDING, 102 DEGREE FEVER-INDUCING, CHILLS-PRODUCING, SLEEP-DEPRIVING, SOUL-SUCKING FLU" that has swept through the Central Valley -- and Fresno in particular -- with a vengeance this February. A week ago I watched my wife, daughter, and our border all crash and burn within a 24 hour time period. And like *all* other times I get sick, I watched everyone else around me get it first before succumbing to it several days later. It's like a prolonged death sentence, where you first get to be tortured and see the pain and misery of everyone else around you for days on end before being subjected to it yourself. A chance to savor the experience, so to speak. All during that time period the "Dread" was upon me, like some horror flick that is playing out in High Definition, 7.1 Surround Sound that you desperately want to turn off before realizing that you're in it, and you're the next target. And wouldn't you know it, 4 days later -- like clockwork, just as the tide was turning for everyone else in the family, down I go.
Ah yes, and now I remember why I always think having the flu is not that bad until I get it myself -- because every time I do get it, I repress the horrific memories of the experience as soon as possible and purge them from my brain until the next time it comes around.
Well, when you are as sick as a dog and are lying in a pathetic heap on the couch, you tend to want to fill the time with things that distract you as best as possible from the misery you are experiencing, even if it's only for an hour here or for an hour there. So on Friday, after coming home from a brief period of work where I had to submit a $25,000 proposal, I hobbled into the movie store to pick up Johnny English, one of my all-time favorite comedies. Admittedly, the beginning/first half is a bit slow, but the last half an hour has me rolling every time I watch it. I simply love satire, especially when it pokes fun of conventions that are so near and dear to a society's heart. The way that Johnny English deals with British and French culture and lampoons the pomp and circumstance of England has tears rolling down my eyes by the end of the movie every time I see it... ...except, except for this time, where I almost died in a fit of coughing while laughing. But still.
So anyway, my favorite scene is when is when Johnny English, as Agent One, confronts Pascal Sauvage at the Coronation Ceremony and tells Bough to play the DVD of Savage describing his insidious plan for England once he becomes King. Johnny being Johnny, of course, took the wrong DVD, and instead of the evil mastermind's plan being revealed, Johnny is:
Every time I see that Indian princess staring up at the screen with her mouth gaping open and then cutting over to Johnny loosing control and lip syncing to his own lip syncing, I just about die laughing. Only this time, more so.
Well, that ABBA tune he's lip syncing to actually *is* pretty catchy...
I think part of what makes that scene work so well is that just about every one of us, at some point in time, has done something similar in the privacy of our own home when no one else is looking. I know I certainly have.
At any rate, even though I've seen it a bunch of times, something about that ABBA song struck a chord in me this time around, and so after a sick Sunday afternoon of Googling later, I came to realize that as a kid, I actually loved listening to ABBA. I just had forgotten completely about it. My father had a couple of old ABBA records that we used to listen to as a family every weekend, and boy, did the memories come flooding back. I was even tempted to buy their Forever Gold album this afternoon (only $12.67!), since those catchy pop tunes really are fun to listen to -- that is, until I told my wife about it and I got made fun of the rest of the evening. Maybe she's right, and its just the sickness talking. Maybe, just maybe, and this is a line of thinking I really don't want to go down, if I was any sicker I'd be delirious and not only would I want to be buying old ABBA albums, but I'd also want to be buying old Debbie Gibson and Tiffany CDs as well...
...well, at the very least, Thank You For The Music , ABBA. You certainly perked up my spirits this sick afternoon.
