Michelle Goff, mystery writer

Mystery writer

Category: Movies

A league of their own — May 17, 2023

A league of their own

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There’s an old saying that we should never meet our heroes. As I don’t have heroes, I can’t speak to that. But having met one of my two favorite living authors last week, I can say that meeting someone I admire was pretty expletive awesome.

This saga begins a couple months ago when my bestie texted and asked if I had time for a chat. She had a proposition that would be best explained on the phone. Intrigued, I told her to call.

On the phone, she explained that author Ann Patchett – aka one of my two favorite living authors – would be interviewing Tom Hanks – yes, the Tom Hanks – in Nashville in May about Hanks’ novel. Said bestie had purchased two tickets, but her husband had a conflict and wouldn’t be able to accompany her to the event.

I exclaimed something like, “I’m in!”

The ticket was embarrassingly inexpensive, especially given the opportunity to listen to a conversation between Tom Hanks – yes, the Tom Hanks – and Ann, as my bestie and I refer to Patchett. I would have been stupid to pass up that opportunity. Besides, attendees would receive a copy of Hanks’ book.

So, on the day of the event, I drove three hours to my bestie’s house and hopped in her car, and then we drove another three hours to Nashville. We arrived at the venue an hour and a half before the start time. By the way, when our Uber driver learned why we were in Nashville, he asked, “You came down here for that?”

Yes, my dude, we did.

Anyway, the event was wonderful. Ann, an excellent interviewer, sat back and allowed Hanks to talk. And talk he did. He was charming and hilarious as he discussed his book, The Making of Another Major Motion Picture Masterpiece, and shared anecdotes from his career. I can’t remember when I’ve laughed so much in a 90-minute timespan. I believe Hanks would have continued talking all night if Ann hadn’t reminded him of the time.

By the way, when he said, “A movie is made for an audience of one,” I felt like he was speaking to an audience of one.

The next morning, I rolled out of bed at the hotel, took a shower, dressed, looked at myself in the mirror, said, “Good enough,” and hit the road. After all, we were just going to Ann’s bookstore, Parnassus Books, and then heading home. Who was I going to see?

Ann expletive Patchett! That’s who we saw!

Let me back up. Even before we met Ann, I had enjoyed my visit to Parnassus Books. As my bestie and I perused books, a lady from Ohio, who had also come to Nashville for the event, overheard me talking about Richard Russo, my other favorite living author, and approached me. She said she doesn’t run into many Russo enthusiasts. Neither do I, so I’m glad I got to talk to another one.

Back to meeting Ann…as the employee at Parnassus Books helped with my order, my bestie ran up to me. With wild eyes, she cried, “Ann is here!”  

She told me she was going to try to arrange a meeting. A few minutes later, I heard my bestie laughing. I said to myself, “Self, she did it.”

I nearly ran to the back of the store where I found my bestie chatting with Ann.

Yes, the Ann Patchett.

Here’s what our friends at Wikipedia say about Ann, “She received the 2002 PEN/Faulkner Award and the Orange Prize for Fiction in the same year, for her novel Bel Canto. Patchett’s other novels include The Patron Saint of Liars (1992), Taft (1994), The Magician’s Assistant (1997), Run (2007), State of Wonder (2011), Commonwealth (2016), and The Dutch House (2019). The Dutch House was a finalist for the 2020 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.”

I’ve read all those books, except for Taft, which as it turns out, I had already planned to start next week. Ann seemed surprised that my bestie and I heaped praise on earlier works like The Magician’s Assistant. She might also have been a bit overwhelmed by us. I think at some point, I called her, “Sis.” I also told her I started Commonwealth in my gynecologist’s office. She simply replied, “As one does.”

Ann was delightful and gracious, agreeing to pose for photos with us. When she heard I was a Russo fan, she told me he would be at Parnassus Books in July. She also hugged my bestie.

My bestie earned that hug. If not for her, I wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity to spend an evening laughing with Tom Hanks or a morning meeting Ann Patchett.

Yes, the Ann Patchett.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

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Expanding universe — May 3, 2023

Expanding universe

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My great-niece and great-nephew, emphasis on great, finally saw The Super Mario Bros. Movie this weekend.

I haven’t talked to them about the experience, but their mom, my niece, said they had an “awesome” time.

I’m happy for them and everyone else who enjoyed the movie. Indeed, I’m glad the video game franchise brings so much joy to so many. But the Mario universe confuses the expletive out of me.

For starters, why are plumbers fighting all these villains? (By the way, my great-niece has started using the word villains to describe the bad guys in TV shows or movies. She is as adorable as she is smart.) I wish I had plumbing skills, but if I were fighting giant turtles, I wouldn’t call plumbers for help.

At least I believe Bowser, the main villain, is a turtle. I think he looks more like a dragon, but I didn’t know until a couple years ago that Mario got his start in a Donkey Kong game or that Donkey Kong wears a tie, so don’t come to me for your Mario intel. (I did know that Donkey Kong is a gorilla. I’m not completely oblivious.)

The day I learned Donkey Kong was part of the Mario universe, I also learned he has a family. My nieces, great-niece, and great-nephew paid no attention to my many Donkey Kong-related questions including: Why does he wear a tie? Does he work in an office? If so, what does he do for a living?

It’s as if they didn’t care.

I also don’t understand the point of the mushrooms and the coins in the series. What is Mario doing with all that money? He also frequently uses his head to break bricks and blocks. And the only protection he has for his head is a cap. I fear he has severe brain damage from all that head banging.

But nothing slows him and the other characters down. In Mario Kart, they race go carts…on land, in the water, everywhere.

As I’ve mentioned before, I am terrible at video games. I was feeling pretty good about myself when I didn’t come in last place in a spirited family Mario Kart race last year. That is, I was feeling pretty good until my niece pointed out that the only player I bested was my then-4-year-old great-nephew.

Anyway, when my great-niece started getting into Mario as a toddler, she talked about princesses and Luigi and the aforementioned Bowser. So ignorant was my knowledge of Mario that I thought these were new characters. Then I learned they’d been around forever. It’s like they’re characters in a soap opera.

She also gave all of us Mario personas. Who was I?

Bowser. The villain.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

Return of the trilogy — March 8, 2023

Return of the trilogy

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As I settled down to watch TV one evening last week, I realized I needed something familiar, so I decided to start a rewatch of The Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Here’s some breaking news – I still consider the films, based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s saga of the quest to destroy The One Ring and, in the process, the ring’s evil creator, to be fantastic.

When the first film in the trilogy – The Fellowship of the Ring – was released in 2001, I paid it no mind. This was, in part, because I confused it with Lord of the Flies, which I have never and will never read or watch. I still didn’t care when the second movie – The Two Towers – was released the following year. I still didn’t care when the third movie – The Return of the King – was released in 2003. After all, the only fantasy adventure that interests me involves my move to Cicely, Alaska.

But also in 2003, someone recommended I rent the first two LOTR movies. I don’t remember who made this recommendation, but it had to be someone whose judgment I trusted, because I made my way to the video store and rented a VHS tape of The Fellowship of the Ring that I played on my VCR.

Although I must have been skeptical, the movie captivated me within minutes. I enjoyed it so much that I returned to the video store as soon as possible to rent The Two Towers. Then, I waited impatiently for The Return of the King to be released on video because I had missed its theatrical run.

Through the years, I’ve caught the movies on the TV, but enough time had passed since my last watch that I felt I could view them with fresh eyes. As I mentioned earlier, they’re fantastic. I love the music and, with one exception, the cast, and the grandness. At times, it’s over the top, but it’s a story about mind-reading elves, an all-seeing eye that corrupts a wizard, and a self-aware ring that’s trying to get back to its master. If that story doesn’t deserve and demand theatrics then I don’t know what does.

Ultimately, though, as a friend notes when explaining why the trilogy constitutes her favorite movie, it’s a story about working together and helping one another for a greater good or simply for friendship. As a teary-eyed Sam tells Frodo, he can’t carry the ring, but he can carry him. And he does.

Here are more of my thoughts on the trilogy, in no particular order of importance:

  • The Shire is beautiful. It’s no wonder most Hobbitses don’t leave.
  • I love the way the elves don’t seem to move when they move.
  • Much like Éowyn, I fell in love with Aragorn on first sight.
  • I’m sure this is offensive to Tolkien fans, but I couldn’t finish the books. They were hard to follow and boring.
  • Whenever the characters worried about the lack of troops, I shook my head. They just needed Aragorn and his sword, Legolas and his unending supply of arrows, and Gimli and his axe. Well, those guys, their weapons, and a little of Gandalf’s magic.
  • This might be an unpopular opinion, but the Orcs are scary and creepy.
  • If I had the ring and that screaming wraith showed up, I’d throw it to him.
  • Smeagol makes me sick to my stomach, but he had some good lines. Indeed, stupid fat hobbit is one of the greatest insults in cinematic history. Poor Sam. Not only did he accompany Frodo on his perilous journey over Middle Earth, he did so without po-tay-toes, and he endured fat-shaming. It’s no wonder Tolkien considered him the story’s true hero.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

Funny is in the eye of the beholder — October 26, 2022

Funny is in the eye of the beholder

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Last week during the call of an NFL game, legendary announcer Al Michaels shared that he doesn’t like horror movies. In case you’re wondering, Al prefers musicals.

I felt a kinship with Al because, as I’ve mentioned here and there, I also am not a fan of the horror genre. It’s not that I think I’m too good for horror movies or that they’re bad films. It’s just that I find real life horrifying enough. Besides, most of the so-called scary movies I’ve seen have had the opposite effect on me.

Take the vampire genre, for example.

If I’m not mistaken, my introduction to the genre occurred in high school when a teacher showed us the classic 1931 version of Dracula. I love old movies, but I was not impressed in part because of those squeaking expletive bats.

Unlike so many others in my generation – and my circle – I haven’t read one word written by Anne Rice. When friends urged me to read her books, I’m fairly certain I politely explained that I didn’t want to spend my time reading about the undead. I’m fairly certain I politely explained.

Nonetheless, it was with great enthusiasm that, back in the day, I rented the 1994 film adaptation of her novel, Interview with the Vampire. Why? Because it starred Brad Pitt as one of the sulking vampires.

Surprisingly, the film entertained me. I thought it was funny. When I shared that last thought with folks, they told me the film wasn’t supposed to be funny.

Oh.

Nonetheless, they encouraged me to watch the 1992 film adaptation, Bram Stoker’s Dracula. I’m open-minded and the film starred a few of my favorite performers, so I rented the movie from the video store.

It was so over-the-top and the way Gary Oldman, as the title character, enunciated his dialogue had me in stitches. When I shared this with folks, they told me the film wasn’t supposed to be funny.

Oh.

For the most part, I called it quits with vampires. At some point, I found the old, campy vampire-themed soap opera, Dark Shadows, on the TV. I watched a few seasons and, much later, the film adaptation. Both made me laugh, but I’m fairly certain they were supposed to be funny. I’m fairly certain of this.

Nonetheless, a few years ago there was a show on one of the premium channels called True Blood. It featured sultry vampires. That’s another thing. Unlike oodles of others, I do not find vampires sultry. (Nope. Not even an undead Brad Pitt.) Anyway, I ran across a scene of these True Blood vampires online. I laughed and laughed.

I was told it wasn’t supposed to be funny. It was supposed to be sultry.

Oh.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

Know your limits — September 28, 2022

Know your limits

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As I’ve noted before in this-here space, I’ve become aware that my tastes have changed.

Indeed, I’ve realized in the past few years that, for the most part, I have trouble getting into a new TV series unless it features stories or characters with whom I’m already familiar. The Crown sheds a light on the British Royal Family, whom I’ve followed since the Diana years. The Mandalorian and Obi-Wan Kenobi continue the Star Wars saga, which I’ve followed for decades.

Occasionally I find myself enjoying a new show (see last week’s review of Abbott Elementary). Other recent exceptions are Hacks and Only Murders in the Building. But those last two feature actors I grew accustomed to dozens of years ago. Hacks revolves around Jean Smart, aka Designing Women’s Charlene Frazier Stillfield, whilst veteran actors Steven Martin and Martin Short lead the cast of Only Murders.

Anyway, I’ve also noticed that I avoid shows and movies with dark or disturbing themes. I’m not talking about the horror genre. I’ve never been a fan of that.

Here’s an example of a recent show I vetoed watching. Steve Carell, aka The Office’s Michael Scott, can currently be seen in Hulu’s The Patient. When a friend asked if I planned to watch the psychological thriller, in which a therapist is held captive by a patient who wants him to help cure his homicidal urges, I said no.

I’ve seen the ads for the show and it looks amazing. But I can’t watch things like that anymore.

I considered watching Yellowstone, but when I remembered that someone told me there were a lot of killings on the show, I decided to turn to my comfort zone — sports — instead.

Knowing that I watch Dateline and 48 Hours, folks recommend true life documentaries. I also pass on those because there’s only so much murder I can take.

But here’s what stumped me: I can still read books with dark or disturbing themes.

I recently shared the discovery of my aversion to watching shows and movies with dark or disturbing themes with a friend. When I told her that I can still read those kinds of books, she said, “Hmm.” Then, she studied on it and said it probably has something to do with seeing the action presented visually.

I studied on that and came up with a perfect case in point. I previously recommended to you, dear readers, Patrick Radden Keefe’s Empire of Pain: The Secret History of the Sackler Dynasty. The book delves into the damage wrought by OxyContin. It’s a great book. But you already know that if you followed my recommendation and read the book.

There’s a series on Hulu called Dopesick. Based on another book about the opioid industry, Dopesick fictionalizes the damage wrought by OxyContin. Michael Keaton, aka a Batman and the Beetlejuice, stars in the ensemble cast.

I will not even try to watch the show because I know my limitations.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

Heard it in a movie — June 29, 2022

Heard it in a movie

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I’m not into supernatural and/or paranormal stuff, so I don’t watch Stranger Things, a Netflix series set in the 1980s that features supernatural and paranormal stuff. Yeah, I’ve been told I would dig all the ’80s pop culture references and homages as well as Winona Ryder, who appears in the show. But this is a case of risk – supernatural/paranormal – versus reward – the ’80s and Winona. Reward doesn’t stand a chance.

Apparently in this season, its fourth, Stranger Things uses Kate Bush’s 1985 song, Running Up That Hill. After being featured in the show, the song became a hit again, nearly 40 years after its original release. Although I’m happy for Kate Bush, I harbor an irrational hatred of that song, which only solidified my stance against watching Stranger Things.

The renewed attention to Running Up That Hill reminded me of songs I had never paid attention to until hearing them in movies, proving that the combination of song in scene can be just as important as words or costumes or actors or etc. in scene. With that in mind, here is an incomplete list of songs I discovered in movies. (The movies are in parathesis.)

  • Maybe I’m Amazed (An Unmarried Woman): I have a confession. Whilst I’m a fan of The Beatles, I’m not a fan of Paul McCartney’s band, Wings. Thus, Wings’ Maybe I’m Amazed was just another song for me until I watched 1978’s An Unmarried Woman and saw Jill Clayburgh and her movie daughter sit at a piano and belt out the song. Now when I hear Maybe I’m Amazed, I think of that scene, which shows the close relationship between mother and daughter in a flick about Clayburgh, a married woman (at the beginning of the movie) who learns her husband has been unfaithful.
  • Misunderstanding (Mona Lisa): This song, by the group Genesis, was so off my radar that I thought it was called Understanding. I can’t remember exactly when Misunderstanding is played in Mona Lisa, a 1986 British crime drama, but it undoubtedly left its mark because I sought out the song afterward. I still do.
  • I Got a Name (Django Unchained): Jim Croce’s 1973 tune, which had never before made an impression on me, was a perfect choice for this 2012 movie. I loved the scene where it’s played: Django and the dentist ride horses over snowy landscapes as mountains loom in the distance. But I hated the rest of the movie so much that I swore off the director’s subsequent work. I did not develop an irrational hatred for the Croce song, though. On the contrary, I developed a fondness for it.
  • Levon (The Ice Storm): When I was fact checking myself, I saw that Croce’s I Got a Name was also on The Ice Storm’s 1997 soundtrack. (I told you it didn’t make an impression before Django.) Until The Ice Storm, to the best of my knowledge, I had never heard Sir Elton John’s 1971 song, Levon. I became consumed with it afterward. Written by Sir Elton’s longtime collaborator, Bernie Taupin, the song’s lyrics have been the subject of much speculation. Taupin told Rolling Stone he didn’t know what he intended as the meaning and that the lyrics were just lines that were interesting. The lyrics, including “Jesus blows up balloons all day, Sits on the porch swing watching them fly” certainly caught my interest.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

A good read and watch — April 20, 2022

A good read and watch

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As a teen reader, I discovered the mysteries of Agatha Christie. And although I eventually read oodles of Christie’s books, I don’t think I ever figured out whodunit. (By the way, Christie’s And Then There Were None is one of only a handful of books I’ve read in one day. Indeed, I might have read it in one sitting. Yes, it’s that good.)

Anyway, even though I tried – and failed – to solve the mysteries, for me it was more about the characters and the settings. I enjoyed being transported from the holler to grand manors or English villages.

I thought of those books again recently after watching the most recent adaptations of two of Christie’s mysteries, Murder on the Orient Express and Death on the Nile.

Parts of both movies are boring, but overall they entertained me. I preferred Orient Express because I’ve always favored that story – it’s one of Christie’s most memorable – and because of the stunning shots of snowy mountains and landscapes.

Nile, as the title suggests, is set in Egypt and also features stunning shots. But most of them look like they were created by CGI (computer generated imagery) … because they were. Here’s the thing: CGI is kinda like wigs, hair extensions, and cosmetic surgery. If I notice them, then they must be really obvious.

My only other major complaint of both movies is with the character Hercule Poirot, played by Kenneth Branagh, who also directed the movies. In the books and earlier adaptations, the Belgian detective – the world’s greatest detective (he proclaims this statement frequently) – is conceited, egotistical, and mannered. In fact, David Suchet played him to perfection in the aptly-titled BBC series, Poirot.

Branagh’s Poirot, whilst conceited, egotistical, and mannered, is also so morose and devoid of any spark that, if not for his signature moustache and accent (and for the fact that everyone calls him Det. Poirot), I wouldn’t know who he was supposed to be.

These movies center around murder and death. Not exactly fun-filled times. And in the case of Orient Express, it’s a sad, sad story. I legit became emotional at one point whilst watching that flick. But most of Christie’s mysteries are so over-the-top and filled with such hyperbolic characters that I can’t take them seriously. This includes Nile. More than once whilst watching that flick, I legit rolled my eyes at the characters’ hysterics.

So I’d really like Poirot to be outrageous as well and not constantly moping around with a bad case of the sads. (I’ve read that another adaptation of another book with another actor features an even sadder Poirot. I implore filmmakers and actors to please stop this nonsense.)

Nevertheless, I recommend the Branagh movies. And, of course, Christie’s books. I’m happy to report that after I watched the films, I advised a younger person in my life to read Orient Express. She took my advice.

As should you.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

Hare pollution — April 13, 2022

Hare pollution

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As Clairee says in Steel Magnolias, “It’s almost time for the East-er Bunny.”

If you are familiar with my thoughts and feelings on mimes and clowns, then you probably will not be surprised to learn that the Easter Bunny also creeps me the expletive out.

When I say – or, rather, write this – obviously I don’t mean the real Easter Bunny creeps me out. I’m sure he or she is a wonderful rabbit. Indeed, the Easter Bunny devotes so much time and attention collecting and delivering toys and candies to the good – and no doubt bad – little girls and boys worldwide that he or she has to subcontract much of the pre-holiday work to others.

In fact, one of my nieces played the role of a generic Easter Bunny many years ago at a local organization. She donned a white costume, complete with oversized bunny ears, and posed in photos with children. And, yes, in case you’re wondering, even though I knew my lovely and in no way creepy niece wore that costume, I was nonetheless creeped out.

Think about it. That gosh-darn bunny never blinks. That’s weird.

Something I cannot wrap my mind around is visits to these generic (and creepy) Easter Bunnies so parents can snap photos of them with children. Children who are in some cases screaming their little lungs out because they’re horrified by the giant pastel-frocked rabbit in their presence.

My aforementioned and in no way creepy niece recently took her younglings – my great-niece and great nephew (emphasis on great) – to have their picture taken with a generic Easter Bunny. The children looked traumatized in the resulting photo.

I could relate. Just looking at the photo traumatized me.

Let’s discuss this rationally. The Easter Bunny who visits with children is human-sized and stands on two feet. Perhaps real bunnies do occasionally stand on two feet. I have, however, never seen this occur in the wild. And by wild, I mean my back yard, the side of the road, or the Goff Estate. So, if I, a woman of advancing age, have never seen it, chances are children haven’t experienced this phenomenon. (I have also never seen a human-sized rabbit in the wild and I hope I never see one. That would be more traumatizing than spying a generic Easter Bunny in a store.)

Anyway, if a standing, human-sized rabbit isn’t enough to make kids think their world has turned upside down, it gets worse. The bunny has an enormous head and – I repeat – never blinks those lifeless eyes.

Happy Easter!

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

The West Side Story continues — March 9, 2022

The West Side Story continues

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As you grow older, your tastes change. For example, I don’t eat as much candy as I did in the past. Of course, my recent purchases at the dollar store might dispute this claim. But all those bags of candy were not for me! Besides, Easter comes only once a year!

Anyway, when I was much younger, I decreed that I didn’t enjoy movie musicals. Oh, the folly of youth.

This silly, sweeping pronouncement included the 1961 classic, West Side Story. Indeed, I remember disappointing a friend when I announced, with smugness dripping from my voice, that I didn’t care for the movie and all those annoying song and dance routines.

A few years later, I viewed the movie again and, that time, I recognized the film’s brilliance, especially those song and dance routines. To this day, I might start singing “America,” “Jet Song,” “Maria,” or “A Boy Like That” at random moments. I might even add a little dance to the routine if I’m in a good mood.

For those of you unfamiliar with the film, it’s an adaptation of the Broadway musical, which was inspired by Romeo and Juliet. It tells the tale of two rival gangs, the Jets and the Sharks, against the backdrop of the interracial love story of Tony and Maria.

West Side Story is one of my oldest sister’s favorite films, so when Steven Spielberg’s remake was released last year, she said she wanted to see it. Alas, she didn’t make it to the theatre.

The film did make it to my streaming service last week and I invited my sister to a private viewing at my home. We watched the movie this weekend.

When it comes to classic cinema, I’m a traditionalist who generally avoids remakes. After all, why mess with near or absolute perfection? If not for my sister, I’m not sure I would have watched the 2021 version of West Side Story. But I did so with an open mind.

And you know what? It was great.

In some ways, I enjoyed it more than I did the original.

I was happy to see Rita Moreno, who won an Oscar for her portrayal of Anita in the 1961 version, as Valentina. (Moreno also serves as an executive producer.) Spielberg’s version is faithful to the original stage version and it’s just so vibrant and colorful – even when the colors are drab.

Musicals are usually uplifting. (At least most of my favorite musicals – Grease, Meet Me in St. Louis, and Singin’ in the Rain – have uplifting endings. A fourth film on that list – All That Jazz – is not exactly a laugh fest.)

Although West Side Story contains dark overtones, the aforementioned song and dance routines and vibrant colors can fool you. During one song and dance number, I told my sister that real life would be better if folks broke out into song and started dancing and everyone joined in. Wouldn’t that be grand!

She gave me side eye. After all, she knew what was coming. Like I mentioned earlier, the story is based on Romeo and Juliet. Ergo, almost everyone dies.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.

A character story — December 15, 2021

A character story

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Of all the great holiday movies, A Christmas Story is my favorite. The saga of Ralphie Parker’s quest for a Red Ryder B.B. gun never fails to entertain me, to make me laugh, and to touch my he

And of all the great characters in the movie – Ralphie, his old man, his mom, the Bumpus dogs – it’s a relatively overlooked character – Ralphie’s brother, Randy – who serves as my favorite.

Most of the time, when I hear people refer to Randy, they call him Ralphie’s brother. It’s as if he doesn’t have a name. And most of the time, when they’re referring to him, they’re comparing something in their lives to the scene in which Randy and Ralphie’s mom dresses Randy in so many layers that he can’t put his arms down.

That is a fantastic scene, but there’s so much more to Randy. Take my favorite scene in the movie. In the voiceover, the narrator (Jean Shepherd, who wrote the stories on which the movie was based) explains that Randy has not eaten a meal voluntarily in three years. Displaying her ingenuity, the mom asks Randy to show her how the piggies eat. Randy, pretending to be a pig, puts his face into a plate of mashed potatoes and does just that. Whilst eating like a pig, he oinks and oinks and laughs and laughs.

The laughter is contagious. Just like Randy, I always laugh and laugh during that scene. (I do not oink and oink, though.)

In my everyday life, I also frequently quote Randy’s rant in this scene: “Meatloaf, smeatloaf, double beatloaf. I hate meatloaf.” People respond by looking at me as if I have lobsters crawling out of my ears.

Anyway, when Ralphie finally breaks bad and beats up bully Scut Farkus, it’s Randy who runs home and fetches his and Ralphie’s mom. What a hero! Later, Randy hides under the kitchen sink and cries because he’s afraid their dad will kill Ralphie for fighting. What a sweetie!

By the way, once again, their mom handles Randy like a pro. She doesn’t drag him out from under the sink. She gives him a glass a milk and lets him process his feelings in his own time. She should have written a book on parenting.

Later in the movie, the family goes to a Christmas parade and to Higbee’s Department Store. While there, the boys get an audience with the Big Man aka the Head Honcho aka Santa. Some might say Randy should have comported himself better when he finally got to see Santa, but I retort that Randy was but a child and he had been standing in line for dozens of minutes. Besides, Santa and those elves were scary. I would have screamed, too.

Near the end of the movie, after Randy has exhausted himself opening presents on Christmas morning, he falls asleep with his arm clutching a toy zeppelin. He’s so adorable and so unaware of the B.B. gun- and Bumpus dog-induced drama about to unfold.

This post originally appeared in the Appalachian News-Express.