Maybe it’s creeping senility, but lately I get misty eyed watching some of the most inane crap.
Tinker Bell and the Lost Treasure, which I’m forced to watch everyday because it’s my toddlers’ flavor of the month. That scene at the climax where Tinker Bell and Terence, in their dirigible of floating cotton balls, lands in the middle of Pixie Hollows’ blue moon festival. Yeah, man.
Star Trek: Into Darkness, during its shameless rehash of that scene in The Wrath of Khan when Kirk and Spock say goodbye from either side of glass door. “You’ll flood the whole compartment!” Yeah, it got me.
And then absolutely anything that shows childbirth going wrong, like that National Geographic documentary, The Science of Babies — just forget it. Even Elizabeth Banks having to get a C-section in last night’s viewing of What to Expect When You’re Expecting made me squirm. Of course, those hit too close to home.
So, what’s my problem? Am I sissy boy? Or maybe this is just a trait of being a writer — having a heightened sense of empathy or something. Yeah, that’s the ticket.
Until I figure it out, just pass me a tissue and look the other way, goddammit.