The Belmont. It is ‘the local’ for MTM and me, the place we go in the neighborhood to get out of the house, sit in a room full of strangers and sip a drink at the end of a trying day. Friday was a trying day for both of us, sending us scampering to our local Happy Place after dinner.
One of the coolest things about The Belmont is this: they run old movies on the back wall. There’s no sound, but the visuals are quirky. Last night, we were lucky enough to nab two seats at the bar in the back, front-and-center to watch the show. It was Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. Vampires. Werewolves. Frankenstein. Hmmmmmm………sounds like what everybody’s hankering to write and view these days, minus the Frankenstein part.
I looked at MTM, because this is how my brain misfires, and I said, “Why is Frankenstein’s head flat?”
My genius husband did not know the answer. Before I could dig my iThingy out of the depths of my purse, he said, “Wait. Let’s be old school and do something novel…….let’s ask the bartender.”
So, we asked Mickey. I could tell he pondered calling our tab. Do people ask bartenders random questions anymore? With a sheepish grin, he blurted, “I don’t know,” and disappeared into the bustle of the bar.
Revelations were at the tips of my fingers, but human connection was what I craved. Google would give me a pass to avoid strangers and just sit there, playing with my phone. Instead, I turned to the person beside me. Dustin was his name. After a circuitous conversation that included a soliloquy to his favorite movie (Predator) and my apex choice (The Princess Bride), I had him warmed up enough to ask the Frankenstein question.
“He got hit on the head with a shovel?”
Maybe so, Dear Reader. Maybe so.
Whether Dustin was right or wrong, we had a rollicking conversation, a real old-school ramble. It made me wonder: is it more fulfilling to know I can have the ‘right’ answer with technology, or is it more fun to take the meandering route to a possible wrong one and still make a connection with a stranger?
Perhaps our devices are making us all flat-headed Frankensteins.
Too Much is Just Enough: Personal Connection
Okay. WITHOUT GOOGLING, why do YOU think Frankenstein’s head is flat?