I think I'm getting cranky in my old age. The evidence is mounting:
1. I watched Pineapple Express. I thought it blew chunks. This movie, widely-adored, made me question the existence of God. Because why would a good and decent and kind supreme being allow me to waste two hours of my life on such drivel? This comedy concerns two stoners, one of whom witnesses a drug deal gone bad, precipitating the duo going on the run. The movie's title refers to the type of weed the two guys smoke. What can I say? This movie was written while these guys were high. How else to explain the long, drawn-out dialogue that I'm sure was funny ten hits in, but is just tedious to the viewer at home. These were writers in love with their writing and therefore unable to cut any of it from the TWO HOUR movie. I laughed three times during two hours, the rest I fast-forwarded through just to spare myself additional repetitive stoner talk.
2. Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. A supposedly cute movie starring wonderboy Michael Cera. I love Michael Cera in Arrested Development. He's perfectly cast. But in N&N? He has such a flat affect that it's impossible to believe some hot, rich girl falls for him across a crowded room while he and his band are performing. I do like the movie's matter-of-fact take on his band's gay members; it's no big deal, he's not threatened or freaked out by his friends' gayness. I loved that, especially in a teen-type movie. But the whole thing just felt wrong with him as the love interest. Not to mention that every one of these "high schoolers" looked about 28, except for his ex-girlfriend, who disturbingly did look young while being the most sexualized character in the movie. It wasn't horrible; I'd watch it on an airplane. But it wasn't fabulous.
3. Further evidence of my crankiness and advancing age? I LOVED Doubt, to the point that I gushed at one point in the movie, "Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman are acting geniuses!" AARP calling..
4. Additional evidence: We went out to dinner to a decently-nice restaurant with a bunch of friends last night for the BBDD's birthday. Felt horrified to see families arrive with kids in cut-off jeans and sneakers. For dinner. In a non-chain restaurant. Now, I'm no snob. I was raised with no real money, so we didn't own fabulously fancy clothing. But we owned SHOES and PANTS THAT SAID WE RESPECTED OURSELVES, and you best believe my mom made us wear them when we went out. Again, I'm certain we looked "less than" than the other people there, but we never looked like we didn't care or that we had no idea of what was appropriate. I'm sure someone made comments about my dad in his Dickies trousers and us in our Sears outfits, but you know what? Cheap clothes from KMart can look neat and clean and respectful as well as any BCBG get-up, snotty people be damned. It's all about showing respect for yourself and for the place you're attending, which I believe we always did. So now I'm cranky about people who obviously can afford to look decent but who somehow don't care to tell their kids that cut-off denims and sneakers are, you know, for a cook out, not a restaurant.
So the inexorable slide to seniorhood continues apace. On the bright side, I'm looking forward to my free coffee at McDonalds. :)