Sometimes I think this column should have the same headline every month - "You Wouldn't Believe The %*#@ That Happens To Me." And even though it seems that a lot of it happens because of my kids, believe it or not, things used to happen to me BC (before children).
I bring this up because last week, I took my two boys to see the new "Three Stooges" movie. There were those in my family who were concerned that I was taking 8-year-olds to a movie where violence was glorified, even if it was in a cartoonish way. But I can safely report after one week at my house, no anvils have been dropped on anybody - including their sisters - and no one has hit anyone in the face with a hot iron. And with three ladies in our house, there are multiple irons available at any time.
But I'll keep you posted.
What's important to remember is the fact that they behaved at a "Stooges" movie where the laughs were so big that I feared it would generate bad behavior right there in the theater.
It wouldn't be the first time something bad happened to me at a movie theater, which brings me to the gist of my story.
Would you believe I once was told to stop laughing by an usher at a movie - a comedy mind you - because it was bothering the other customers? He didn't want to have to ask us to leave, but he said that he would if he had to return. They didn't mind that I was laughing but that I was laughing too much and too loudly.
In the late 1980s, the first "Naked Gun" movie opened, and if you're not familiar with that genre, imagine two hours of silly sight gags, dumb jokes and crude behavior all on the big screen at once. Incidentally, my two boys have already seen all three films in the series and they love them.
But I digress.
My best friend, John Dibert, and I were with our dates at the time.
The one thing about John and I that you should know is we love dumb humor. The dumber the funnier, and if you know me, not only do I laugh a lot but I laugh out loud a lot.
Evidently, there were people in the theater who didn't get a lot of the jokes and went to the manager, who then turned around and sent an usher to hush us up, which I guess made him a husher (Dumb joke! Rim shot please?).
Of course, because I
wasn't officially a grownup in 1988 (you never are until you have kids, right?), I laughed even louder with every joke. John's girlfriend went out and unloaded on the manager after it was over. I am happy to report that only harsh words were exchanged and that nobody pulled a chair out from under the ticket taker at the window.
For me, it wasn't worth sending a guy in there to dress me down because I have a hearty laugh. If someone complains because there are two small boys spilling syrup all over a customer, then hits them with a pillow full of feathers, followed by a bowling ball right on the noggin ... THEN you have a reason to complain!
Scott Franco can be reached at 946-7528 or firstname.lastname@example.org.