MUSINGS

I watched "A Streetcar Named Desire" with my husband the other night. Whatever happened to the Stanley Kowalski's of this world and the women who loved them? (Does anyone else find it incongruous that a man who spent so much time in a 'wife beater' wore silk pajamas to bed?) I was attracted to Stanley in a visceral sort of way. My husband, a gentle, educated man, never could understand that. He couldn't see the connection to his fondness for Marilyn. Marilyn. It must be something to be so famous you don't need a last name. Marlon, Liz, Cher, Madonna, Elvis.
"STELLA!" What woman wouldn't get a thrill from a knock dead gorgeous man serenading her from the street?
My husband loves Turner Classic Movie Channel. I hate watching old movies with him. They are always movies he has seen before. Since it's my first viewing he feels the need to keep me in the loop. Like I'm not going to understand what's going on. Ladies, you've all been there right? "Watch this. Watch this." What's worse, his long term memory isn't so great any more. He doesn't always recollect correctly. He explains this away by insisting they changed it or that it must be a director's cut.
His short term memory is a little off too. When we watch something complicated on TV he always has a laundry list of questions before he feels he understands the plot. "Who was the guy in the red cap?" "That was the killer." "Oh." I don't mind if he leaves the questions until the end but he usually asks them during the program and then I get hopelessly lost. And he always wants to know things that haven't been explained yet. He doesn't trust that we will eventually learn what we need to know.
We pretty much limit our viewing to sit-coms these days.