CINEMA

     My wife and I share a great many common interests.  I guess most happily married people do, or they wouldn't be married in the first place.  We have the same philosophy when it comes to raising our children.  We have similar ideas on vacation destinations and both value hard work to accomplish goals in life.  We don't however, share any common ground in movie or television interests.
     The other day, I strode into the kitchen to find Kristi asleep under a blanket with the television on. I quietly removed my shoes and assumed a prone position on the opposite couch.  I stretched for the remote, which was lying on a little wooden chest close to where she slept.  Quietly and calmly, I began to surf.  Much to my delight, I stopped on the American Movie Channel, which had endless Steven Seagal movies on continuous loop.  Under Siege had just begun and I settled in for the long haul.  I still love the action movies of the nineteen eighties and early nineties.
     "You've got to be kidding me!"  came the muffled voice of my wife from somewhere deep within the pile of blankets that she was buried in. "Good grief, can't you switch it to something we can both enjoy?"
     I didn't utter a word.
     "Hello?  I don't want to watch this."
     Silence.
     Finally, through my peripheral vision, I could see her.  Her head was sticking up out of the covers, and she was staring at me with wide eyes and flared nostrils.  I gave in and looked directly at her.  "What?" I asked.
     She continued to stare and then spoke once again.  "Let's watch something we can both enjoy!"
     "There's nothing we both enjoy," I said, hoping she'd rebury herself and go back to sleep.
     "Oh, for goodness sake!  Surely there's something we both can watch."
     "We can both watch Steven Seagal."
     She continued to stare at me as though she was looking deep into my soul, desperately trying to figure out why I continued to enjoy watching Seagal shoot people and break bones with reckless abandon.  "Look, I'm not watching Dr. Phil.  I'm not watching people wander around in the woods looking for Big Foot.  If they'd find him once in a while, maybe, but they never do.  I'm also not going to watch those alien shows either.  Same as Big Foot, they never find any."  I assumed that I should continue to make my case for Steven Seagal.  "At least the events in Seagal's movies have the potential to happen."
     "Whatever," came the exasperated reply.
     "OK, lets talk about this.  Suppose YOU were tasked with jumping out of a cake on a Navy ship, and then dance for the sailors.  But, unbeknownst to you, some very bad guys had taken over the ship.  You didn't know, because you were inside the cake of course.  But when you do jump out, you realize that Steven Seagal is going to save your life.  Now, wouldn't that bring you some comfort?" I said, trying very hard to reason with her.
     "I can't think of any time I would be on a Navy ship," she quipped wryly.
     "Let's just pretend that you were on the ship," I answered.
     "Number one, I have never, nor will I ever go onto a Navy ship.  Number two, I don't jump out of cakes.  And three, I'm never going to dance for a bunch of sailors."
     For a moment, the conversation ceased.  I was exceedingly interested to see how Seagal was going to wiggle out of his latest seemingly hopeless predicament.  "This is so stupid, I don't see how anyone..." Kristi had gained her second wind.
     I shushed her and pointed to the TV.
    "Oh good Lord!  You know what's going to happen!  You've know what was going to happen for the last twenty years!  How may times have you seen this movie?"
    "About as many times as you've seen Grease!"
    She was right.  Maybe I could find something on another channel that we could watch, and reach a healthy compromise.  I began surfing again.  My surfing was short lived.
     "No!" she bellowed.
     I had pushed the channel button twice and landed right, smack, dab, on Spike TV, which was featuring none other than Sylvester Stallone in Rambo.  "Now, there's a movie we can both enjoy!"
     With that, she threw off her blankets and stomped to the nether regions of our home.
     Yep, there's no doubt.  We have lots of common interests.  But if I could just get her to appreciate broken bones, and shoot 'em up action scenes, we'd be forever on the page.