Two unrelated matters

One:
rafaela: You don't seem to be arguing against me on that.
Me: I'm flipping you off with my brain.

Two:
If frying up a cheeseburger in bacon grease is wrong, then I don't ever, ever want to be right.

First person to mention Xanadu gets their tires flattened

A recent exchange in the comments of lists_cinematic and a recent showing of An American in Paris on Turner Classic Movies (which I caught a bit of while on break at work) have reminded me of a conversation I had eons ago while still living in Oneonta, one that still renews my hope for the human race.

I was in my mid-20's, and my friends at the time were roughly the same age or a bit younger. I don't recall how the discussion got started, but I distinctly recall getting into an argument with my friend Vee over Gene Kelly—specifically, over which of his films was the best. She was fighting for An American in Paris; I was firmly in the Singin' in the Rain camp. Not that either of us didn't love both films, but we were passionate in our defenses of our chosen titles, like the protagonists of The Dreamers wrangling over Keaton vs. Chaplin.

In the middle of this, Vee's roommate Missy, another friend, wandered in from her bedroom. "What'cha talking about?"

"We're arguing over what the best Gene Kelly movie was."

"Oh," Missy said, without a moment's hesitation. "Brigadoon."

We stared at her as if she'd just bitten the head off a live goldfish. "BrigaDOON?!" I think we kicked her back into her bedroom after that.

There's something about that argument that stays with me, though. The fact that such a conversation could take place, that we post-Baby-Boom children of summer blockbusters and MTV could not only argue about Kelly, but invoke something like Brigadoon in any capacity—makes me realize that we really can muddle through this, that even in the shadow of all the Hannah Montanas and the bad Fox reality shows and the Michael Bay flicks out there, in the long run things will one way or another even themselves out. Maybe I give the hoi polloi too much credit, but you know what? I don't think I do.