I tortured my poor daughter with a very animated telling of my synopsis and review of that god-awful movie, “Interstellar”.
She was minding her own business, sitting in the kitchen reading her tablet.
I walked into the kitchen, tossing a couple chocolate-covered almonds into my mouth. “Hey, you ever hear about that movie, Interstellar?”
She nods, not looking up from her tablet. So I began, “Blah blah blah farmer blah NASA test pilot blah blah daughter blah blah ghost in bookshelf blah blah wormhole blah blah planets orbiting black hole in distant galaxy blah blah Matt Damon lost in space *again*.”
She looks up with a puzzled look on her face, “What? That’s… that sounds so stupid.”
“Oh just you wait. It gets better! Blah blah.. broken helmet.. blah.. duct tape blah blah.. shuttles strapped to space station.. blah.. black hole.. blah.. silence.. blah.. sucked into black hole.. blah.. 5-dimensional bookshelf.. blah blah.. back in time.. blah. And he was her ghost in the bookshelf! It was him all along! *IN* the bookshelf! He went … *into* the black hole <fanatical hand waving to the right> and came *out*… into his daughter’s bookshelf <fanatical hand waving to the left>! A 5-dimentional bookshelf! Sending Morse code messages to his daughter through dust dots!”
By this time, the poor girl was writhing in pain on the floor. “Dad! Stop! That’s the dumbest story I’ve ever heard! You just took a whole 20 minutes of my life! That I will never get back!”
Then I added, “Oh, and the lead actor was Mathew McConaughey. Which is why I was reluctant to see the movie to begin with.”
At the mention of Mathew Mc, she made a wrenching sound, jumped up from her fetal position, and came after me yelling, “I swear, dad! You will catch these hands! All the hands that were, and all hands that will ever be!”
That was my cue to run like hell.