Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Dear Marc, this is a long letter. Brace yourself. Here we go. I know that you know that in moments of weakness, I turn to Fletch for support. But Fletch is not the only Chevy Chase vehicle that has made a profound impact on my life. Funny Farm may have an even stronger place in my heart. It’s not a better movie. But it’s ok, and the girl from "If tomorrow comes" plays Chevy’s wife so you know the entertainment will be enjoyed by all.
I’ve been thinking about this movie a lot lately. After we bought our house, I’ve been struck by heavy bratnophobia – a well founded fear of spoiled kids with greasy yet clean hair, pastel shirts and ironed jeans.
They grow up to be like Zack in the documentary "Wedding Crashers".
In order to fight the snobs, I’m trying to get all my friends to move out to the wealthy suburb with me. Since so much is at stake, we try to provide the right atmosphere as soon as we get a friend to leave the city to come see our new surroundings.
This weekend was no exception. On Sunday, our friends came out to play with their kids. The suburb seemed to have heard my prayers. The sky was blue, the snow a pristine, glittering white, the children were happy and healthy people were putting on their cross country skis right by their houses before heading for the woods.
There was just one problem. It was all just a little too perfect. The whole suburb scene seemed staged.
All I could think was ”release the deer”.
I don’t know if you’ve seen Funny Farm, so I’ll keep writing as if you haven’t. Chevy and the girl from "If tomorrow comes" have bought their dream house, which in reality turns out to be a real nightmare. To get rid of it, they make everything picture perfect, including trapping and releasing a deer at the right, picturesque moment.
In the movie, this works. The deer seals the deal. In my life, not so. People get suspicious when everything’s too dandy. Better if there’s just a tiny crack in the facade. Like a bitter punk rocker, a crazy neighbor or a sewage leak in the neighborhood. But no such luck this Sunday. So now we’ll have to spend the rest of our lives out there, without the pleasant company of our previous friends.
So the next time you’re thinking of impressing someone, don’t release a deer or two. Keep it on a leash in your living room. Perfect is too weird. Even worse, it’s the perfect breeding ground for brats.
I’ll put out traps set with champagne and caviar. Good night