The other night Lili and I watched a movie called “Nebraska”, a delightful one-pop movie (the kind that would never have a sequel) whose strength was the story it told. The acting and directing were both first-class, and the black-and-white cinematography gave it just the right amount of authenticity.
There was one scene in the movie that reminded me of a situation I’ve been in many times in my life, and I believe I can safely discuss it without giving away any spoilers. If this situation sounds familiar to you, you’ve probably found yourself there before. I know I have.
The background is: A son (David) is driving his father (Woody) to Nebraska, and due to some unforeseen circumstances, they decide to stop off in the little town the father grew up in to see some of the extended family. David (in his mid-30’s) hasn’t seen any of them since he was a young child. He knows they are very back-woods folks, but he’s resolved to make the most of it. When they arrive at his aunt’s house, he meets a couple of his cousins (we’ll call them “Thing 1 and Thing 2”), and they are exactly what you’d expect a couple of corn-fed, small-midwestern-town, good-ol’ boy, churchgoing, Garth Brooks listening, NASCAR loving, mayonnaise sandwich eating, flag-waving, 5th grade educated, god-fearing republican country bumpkins to be. They’re entirely uninterested in meeting their cousin, but David tries his hardest to strike up conversation and be cordial. Continue reading