Stumbled on this little gem, brewing in the depths of my “drafts” folder, one of 119 forgotten or half-realized old posts. You deserve to read it. It deserves to be read
Watching Wonder Woman with my wife–stir fry & folding TV trays in the living room.
Her: (dismissively) I’m not fully buying Remus Lupin as “Ares, God of War”
Me: (distractedly, Gal Gadot is on the screen) Can’t wait until the Lupine bloom.
Her: David Thewlis. He’s too wistful to be a twisted Greek God of War.
Me: Oh. You knew it would be him, though? Famous actor with a phony limp, helping out our heroes for no reason? If he wasn’t the bad guy, it’s a throwaway role and they would have hired a cheaper actor. Besides, he rocks a cool look for a villain.
Her: (Incredulous look.)
Me: My grandfather rocked that look as long as I knew him. Mustache, a boar’s bristle brush, and a dab of pomade.
This old guy kicked furious Nazi ass. What have you done with your life?
Her: What’s a boar’s bristle brush? Is that really a thing?
Me: Exactly, but that’s what the hipsters say I should have–along with something called beard oil–in my daily beard maintenance ritual.
Her: You don’t even have a daily washing ritual.
Me: Right. All that fussing is anathema to the purpose of facial hair. I’ve got a free range beard. My grandfather looked sharp, though. Business suits at work, cardigan sweaters at home. Knee-high dress socks, even with shorts. In the garden he looked just like Higgins from Magnum, P.I.
Her: It sounds like he stuck in the 1940’s and just stayed there.
Me: Exactly. He nailed it early. Kept it nailed. Like Higgins–they both kicked Nazi ass in Africa.
Her: Except Higgins wasn’t real.
Me: He was based on a real person. Probably my grandfather.
Her: (shakes her head) Are we dull? Is this–we’re dull, aren’t we?
Me: Not a chance. We have inconspicuous depths is all.