Wednesday, 16 January 2013
Questions about Hammers
I rediscovered the apple trailer website the other day and have got slightly obsessed with watching HD trailers.
Previously I'd been using computers that would would take a day and a night to load up so watching any videos would involve a long waiting time or deleting a lot of programmes in order to free up space.
It's not like I ever used Word for anything important...
One of the trailers I watched was for the latest Die Hard film, the fifth, if you're counting. This time, John McClaine is out in Russia to help his son, who, judging by the trailer, is leading the sort of life that seems to scream out 'father abandonment issues'. By that, I mean he's just doing what McClaine Sr did for twenty years, just on an international scale and his soul shouting "LOVE ME DADDY" whilst snapping a terrorist neck. There's one scene at the end of the trailer that just made me laugh and lose all hope for the film.
Basically they take out a helicopter and fall out a window parallel to a helicopter they've just destroyed that is about to hit the deck and explodes ten times on the way down. They fall for what appears to be two minutes. Bill and Ted had a shorter journey to hell.
It's just fucking stupid.
But on one hand its a nice father/son bonding event for the McClaines.
Watching this however did get me thinking. The Boy started school this week and it seems like the time is just flying by. Soon I'll have to start thinking about our own bonding routines (not only for him but the new boy as well) I don't think that we're going to end up in Russia and take down an attack helicopter anytime in the next ten years, but there might be moments when we'll end up doing "male bonding" things.
By man things of course I mean the institutionalized gender stereotypical "man" things including (but not limited to) car maintenance, camping out and not asking for directions when we're so clearly lost and desperately in need of help.
This worries me. As few may know, I'm not the biggest example of Alpha male that has ever graced God's green earth. I haven't got a football team I really support among other things and I don't like the ever-fun pastime of parking a car, opening the bonnet (or hood as the films tell me) and staring at an engine that's not running. Or running. Either way I couldn't give a tiny monkey shit what that piece of welded metal is doing. As long as it can get me back and fore to work I will respect it, I just don't want to stare at it in the hope that it will offer me some sort of sexual gratification, as many petrol heads seem to be thinking whilst gazing into the twinkly tips of their gleaming spark plugs. If indeed spark plugs gleam. Do they just spark? I have no idea. I'm not James May.
I do worry that I will somehow inexplicably find myself stuck in a situation where I have to defeat some other boys' father by throwing something really far, or answer questions about hammers. I worry about letting them down in front of their friends. But then the fun will be finding out if the boys are going to be sporty, geeky, arty or all of the above.
I have a feeling that they're going to like Star Wars, no matter what they turn out like. I'm looking forward to the first time I watch it with them. They're going to want a lightsabre, everyone wants a lightsabre. I already have one.
I know it'll be fine. I just hope they find adequate guidance from me and not expect a dad can kill helicopters and survive a 100 foot fall and have a snappy quip at then end of it.