At night in the RV, when the kids are asleep in bed, Amy and I have options. Sometimes we work (I might contribute to this blog, for instance). Sometimes we read (Amy prefers fiction; I tend to read non-fiction). Sometimes we watch TV (many campgrounds – if not most of them these days – have cable TV hook-ups at each site). Often, though, we watch movies. There’s a built-in DVD player and TV in the rear bedroom, so it’s a great set-up. And for some reason, we tend to prefer comedies when we’re on the road. I’m not sure why that is.
Anyway, in honor of last night’s Academy Awards, I offer a list of ten of my favorite comedies. Some of these are out-and-out farces. Others are lighter on the laughs. But if you haven’t seen every one of these films, you’re missing out:
- Waiting for Guffman -- Fictional town plans for its sesquicentennial show – and they take it hilariously seriously. It’s director Christopher Guest’s best movie.
- School of Rock -- Without Jack Black, this would be a mediocre movie, but with him it’s an absolute joy. The guy’s physicality is genius.
- Swingers -- The road trip to Las Vegas is a hoot, as are Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau throughout the film. There’s even a funny scene in a little RV.
- Big Night -- Two great actors – Tony Shalhoub and Stanley Tucci – play two brothers who own a struggling Italian restaurant. A different and delightful film.
- Elf -- Will Ferrell’s best movie. He plays a human who was raised to believe he’s one of Santa’s elves. Nobody does naïve-in-New York better.
- Galaxy Quest -- Stars of a Trek-like TV show are recruited into space by real-life aliens… who have patterned their whole culture after the fake show.
- Dave -- A presidential impersonator – Kevin Kline – is forced to take over for an incapacitated Commander in Chief… and he grows into the job.
- Lars and the Real Girl -- A sweet but delusional man, Ryan Gosling strikes up a relationship with a doll he found on the Internet. His caring friends and family play along.
- Election -- Matthew Broderick (underachieving teacher), Reese Witherspoon (overachieving student) and a high school election gone horribly awry.
- The Dish -- Funny true-life story of a satellite dish amid an Australian sheep pasture… which was vital to broadcasting Neil Armstrong’s moonwalk to the world.
Anyone else have funny (and somewhat overlooked) films that they would recommend? Here’s a photo from the Kennedy Space Center, snapped on the eve of the 40th anniversary of Armstrong’s famous moment:
So here I was, driving through northeastern Indiana, I was traveling with extra vigilance because the trip was part of the immersion experience for my next book (Turn Left at the Trojan Horse, coming soon to a bookstore near you). Specifically, I was headed for a town called Plato, one of many Greek-and-mythology-themed places that were part of my itinerary as I approximated a cross-country version of The Iliad and The Odyssey.
Plato is at the eastern fringe of one of the nation’s largest Amish communities. In fact, I had spent much of the previous day in the little town of Shipshewana, where there is a twice-a-week flea market in which some 860 vendors descend on the community of 536 people. There is also a museum there devoted to the history and culture of the Amish community (the Menno-Hof Museum). When late afternoon arrived, I took a horse-and-buggy ride into the countryside, where I was fed dinner by an Amish family – a enlightening, if slightly uncomfortable, experience.
So I wasn’t too surprised when I finally arrived in the little crossroads of Plato (and that’s pretty much all it is) and the first thing I witnessed was an Amish buggy clopping in the opposite direction. The second thing I encountered was basically the only commercial establishment in town – a business (LaGrange Monument Works) that sells tombstones.
But here’s the funny thing: Along the highway, right in front of the business, there stands a no passing zone sign. Can I possibly be the first person to get a chuckle out of this juxtaposition?
I revel in ironic signs like that, signs that break up a long drive by offering an opportunity for a spontaneous grin. I remember when Amy and I made our first visit to Yosemite, arriving at an RV campground at the Fishing Bridge area of the park. The current bridge itself is more than 70 years old now, and it used to be a very popular place to fish because it was apparently a major spawning area for cutthroat trout. But when the trout population began to dwindle in the early 1970s, the activity was curtailed.
So it was that we arrived to drive past a sign that said FISHING BRIDGE. And then, about ten feet later: CLOSED TO FISHING. That one’s in our scrapbook, along with snapshots of bison grazing and geysers spraying.
I’ve got one more. Right after my journey through Plato, I motored into Ohio and headed for a town called Pandora. Greek mythology aficionados may recall her as the woman who unleashed misery on mankind by opening the lid of a jar (or box) that was supposed to remain unopened. Out came a multitude of plagues – sorrow and mischief, spite and envy, everything from revenge to rheumatism. All that was left, sitting in the bottom of the jar, was hope.
So again, I wasn’t all that surprised when I arrived in the Rockwellian community in west-central Ohio to find an eatery called Pandora’s Lunch Box. But check out what I came across in the photo below. Given the tale behind the name, this cracked me up:
I turned 41 ½ today. What? You think I’m too old to count half-birthdays? I’ll be the judge of that. My grandmother used to say she was 39 years old – and she kept saying it until she was in her late 80s. She figured 39 was a nice pleasant age. Besides, age is a state of mind.
Regarding states, though, I’ve actually been stuck at 49 for quite some time. I’ve visited each of the Lower 48 at least two or three times, some of them much more often. And I spent a memorable spring break week in Hawaii half a lifetime ago. So, of course, that leaves Alaska, which is tops on my to-do list. An RV journey there is supposed to be spectacular. I just have to find the time.
Still, 49 states… most of them several times. That’s not too shabby. You would think I’d seen just about all there is to see. But I haven’t even come close. The stuff I haven’t seen still far outnumbers the stuff I have.
To illustrate what I mean, I’ll pick a single state as an example. Let’s consider Texas:
I’ve explored Space Center Houston. I’ve toured the Alamo and strolled along the Riverwalk in San Antonio. I’ve visited the infamous Texas School Book Depository in Dallas (now sight of the Sixth Floor Museum, dedicated to the life and death of JFK). I’ve seen the Ballpark in Arlington. I’ve explored the Texas Hill Country. I’ve cruised through Austin, Amarillo and Abilene. I’ve been to Odessa and El Paso and Waco. I’ve stopped in towns named Fort Stockton and Kerrville and Comfort.
But here’s what I haven’t done:
I haven’t explored Wichita Falls or Lubbock or Galveston or Corpus Christi. I haven’t been to Paris, Texas. I haven’t seen Big Bend National Park or Guadalupe Mountains National Park or Galveston Bay or South Padre Island or Odessa Meteor Crater or the Caverns of Sonora.
I haven’t visited the Cadillac Ranch outside of Amarillo or Texas Motor Speedway outside of Fort Worth or the Cotton Bowl in Dallas. In Waco, I didn’t get to the Texas Ranger Hall of Fame. In San Antonio, I didn’t make it to SeaWorld . I haven’t explored the Buffalo Soldiers National Museum in Houston or the El Paso Holocaust Museum or the Museum of the Gulf Coast in Port Arthur.
My point is this: You never run out of places to visit – ever, anywhere in America. I could easily have made the same claim by focusing on Oregon or Virginia or South Dakota. So while I may have literally reached the place that you see in the photo below (in southern California), I’ll never really get there.
