It's About Time

I feel like November Mondays like this are rare.

When I woke up to find it was almost 70 degrees, all my intentions were forgotten.

Errands? Bah! Editorial? Not today. Anything inside? Not happening.

Given how late I got up and how early dusk arrives these days, I figured I had just under five hours to savor the bright blue sky and warm air.

I started out walking toward the river, soon passing a man who looked at my pink shorts and t-shirt and smiled, saying, "You're not going to be able to dress like that much longer."

Sir, I haven't been able to dress like this for weeks.

I followed Second Street to the new connector road and down toward Belle Isle, with crossing the pedestrian bridge the only chilly part of the walk because of the wind sweeping off the river.

A couple of loops around the island and a stroll through downtown and by the time I got back home I'd used up half the daylight left.

I squandered the rest planting pink, purple and white tulip bulbs in my garden and raking and sweeping my handkerchief-sized front yard only to watch more leaves fall as I did so.

Oh, well, this was not about results, just an excuse to be outside where everyone who passed by was smiling and commenting on the weather.

I sat on my balcony and started reading "Diary of a Mad Housewife" in the late afternoon sun.

But once it set, I knew the temperature was heading down into the '30s, a rude and unwelcome change from my day spent in shorts.

Now I was willing to go inside and a movie seemed like just the thing.

I ended up at "About Time," partly because I like British films (that dry humor) and partly because I like Bill Nighy (he can say more with a glance than most actors can say with full-on emoting) and partly because I'd seen the preview and I knew it was one of those films where you feel, rather than think.

And today was a feeling kind of a day.

I got there as the previews began but the projector was stuttering and before long a woman notified the projectionist of the problem.

They said it would take ten minutes to restart the projector, allowing me and the women in my row to talk about all the screwy problems we've experienced at the Bowtie.

One had a horror story of a woman who came in to a movie an hour into it, sat in the back row and proceeded to talk full-voice on her phone, at least until a guy walked up there and told her to knock it off.

I had a similar thing where a guy came in to a movie in progress, sat down in my row with a drink, candy and a large popcorn, consumer it all noisily in about 15 minutes and walked out, leaving his debris scattered around his seat.

My question is, and I put it to the women I was talking to, were these people raised by wolves?

Finally "About Time" began, telling the idyllic story of Tim's childhood being raised in Cornwall, where the family had tea on the beach everyday and family movie night on Fridays outside on the patio year-round.

But now Tim was 21 and moving to the big city to practice law.

The movie was a lot of things - a romance, a family story and even science fiction because it had time travel in it- but I especially enjoyed the parts of the movie set in London.

In one scene, Tim and a friend go to a trendy bar downstairs that is intentionally completely dark.

As in, customers are asked to put their hand on the host's shoulder and he leads them into the dark room where strangers have conversations with each other for hours, just like at a regular bar, except you can't see the person you are flirting with (or kissing) until you leave and go outside.

Then there's the language difference. Dresses are frocks and bangs are fringe.

And less reliance on tradition. The bride wears a red dress and she walks down the aisle to "Il Mondo" by Jimmy Fontana, described by one of the characters as "an Italian singer with what looks like a badger on his head."

Of course there was romance, too, and not just young Tim's, but also his parents, whose devotion and enjoyment of each other was impressive.

When they learn the husband has cancer, the wife says, "I am so uninterested in a life without your father."

Now there's a powerful statement.

The film had a lot to do with do-overs, opportunities to go back and make right what you screwed up in a relationship the first time, only in this case, Tim could time travel to do it.

Oh, if it were only that easy.

But it also concerned time and how we decide to use the time we have and appreciate the moments we're experiencing as they happen.

According to Tim's father, the secret formula for happiness was simple.

Live day by day. Live day by day but notice the good parts of each day. It's the simplicity of the little things that actually matter.

Like walking down to the river. Reading a book and talking about it to someone. Baking cookies at 10:00 at night. Wearing a frock and sporting fringe at the cinema. Feeling happy with what I have.

Shoot, I nailed this formula years ago.