Please be kind, rewind.

When we were moving our stuff back into the apt. the other day, Katie noticed my awesome collection of VHS tapes. Some of you may be too young to remember, but before HD-DVD and Blu-Ray had a big battle to see who would be the format of the future, VHS and Betamax dueled for that title. I can still remember the first VCR we had, it was about the size of a Volkswagon and had a "remote" control. A remote that plugged into the front of the machine, then had a 12 foot long cord that ran to the remote and allowed you to pause a movie or change a channel from a relaxing position on the couch. It was at that point we no longer needed a nerf football to throw at the back of Melissa and Steve's head to tell them to turn the knob on the TV and change the channel.

Getting back to things though, I've been trying to enlighten Katie on the cinematic classics through my DVD collection. For some reason, she doesn't find this clip from "The Outlaw Josey Wales" to be classic.

How Clint Eastwood didn't win an Oscar for that I'll never know. Serious, not even joking. My #1 favorite western of all time.

As most of you are aware we've been in a blizzard warning since early September and today they called off work again, which is mostly ceremonial at NISC. The miracle or bane of technology (depending on how you look at it) allows us to dial into work, log into our phones and for the most part appear to our customers that it's business as usual. But while I had to work, Katie had the day off and after she had cleaned every inch of the apt. by 10:30 am she became bored and wanted to watch a movie. One of the movies I had on VHS was "The Jerk" and she decided it was time to watch it. She enjoyed it, but I don't think she fully apprecitated the comedic genius of Steve Martin.

I really feel for Katie, because someday she's going to be bored and she'll reach for "Jeremiah Johnson" on the DVD rack. For her, it'll be 3 hours that she'll ponder on and realize she'll never get back, but she'll also make the connection someday when I come home with a new deer rifle and say:

"I was looking for a Hawken gun, .50 caliber or better. But I settled for a .30, but damn, it's a genuine Hawken, and you can't go no better."