Last night, as I was coughing and sneezing and blowing my brains out my nose, I watched The World According To Garp. Many years ago, when I was a young man, John Irving's book came out and made a splash. My mom told me I would love the book, so I read it. I did love it. Then the movie came out. I loved that too! It came out in 1982, I think. I was able to vote, but not drink.
Now, 27 years later (WTF?) the movie made me cry. A lot. I guess when you live a life as full as mine, with joy, and pain, and love, and death, and sorrow, and elation, movies can make you react like your 75-year old mother reacts to Kodak commercials.
I am not embarrassed (because nobody saw me!); In fact I am proud that I am emotionally healthy enough to cry like John Lithgow.
