It's a wonderful movie

The other day Kim came up to me and said, "Let's go see 'It's a Wonderful Life.' It's going to play Thursday night at the Lexington theater. It's an old movie and it was meant to be seen on the big screen. I think it'll be a lot of fun and it'll be free.

"Besides, I've never seen the whole movie. I've only seen bits and pieces of it here and there. C'mon, let's go. Pleeeeez."

Say whut?

I tried to process this request on several different levels. I mean, gee whiz, I've seen this move about a thousand times. I can quote dialogue from it before Jimmy Stewart does. The denouement, where the grateful population of Bedford Falls comes out to lift George Baily, is one of the best cinema endings in moviedom. I start to tear up about an hour before Clarence gets his wings, even though I know what's coming. I actually look forward to my tears.

So there's that.

Plus, the theater is old, drafty and could use some serious upgrades. I still wasn't sure, but then, what the heck. It was free. Anyway, even in spite of the theater's shortcomings, this was a thoughtful holiday treat by the staff. They were showing a different classic Christmas movie each night ("Polar Express", "Miracle on 34th Street", "Home Alone", "A Christmas Story", for example). So we went.

And guess what? Kim was right. This movie (like all movies) was meant to be seen on the big screen. I found myself chuckling at little bits of humor and nuance that I miss when I watch it on television. There were about 20 other people in the theater (a bigger audience than I expected), so when somebody laughed or giggled, we all did. Psychologically, I guess it's like some kind of mass contagious dissociative behavior. Or maybe it was just funny, I don't know. But it added to our big screen experience.

I also looked for the little stuff that is now movie trivia. The phone kiss between Stewart and Donna Reed was Stewart's first movie kiss since returning from World War II, where he flew 20 harrowing missions as a B-24 pilot. The passionate one-take kiss he gives Reed barely passed the censors of the time. Understandable, I guess. Reed was a 25-year-old beauty and Stewart was suffering from PTSD for the hell he'd just been through.

I also look for Carl Switzer, who played Alfalfa in the Our Gang comedies. Switzer is the wiseguy who opens the swimming pool floor during the dance scene. Stuff like that.

So we stayed to the very end. When Clarence got his wings, the audience clapped, like they sometimes do in movie houses. And I brushed away a tear.

Merry Christmas.

•  •  •

There's one other Christmas moment I want to mention.

Kim and I have been to several Christmas parties this year, and the one treat I'm yearning for – and have been for years – is toll house cookies.

Nobody, it seems, makes toll house cookies anymore. I think I know why. It's a pretty labor intensive project to make these things. 

"If you want them so badly, you can make 'em yourself," said Kim. "You're home all day."

Well, the last time I made them, about 30 years ago, it nearly killed me. And I was a young man then. The recipe I used made three dozen cookies, I think. Mmmm. Gooey oatmeal dough drenched in butter and brown sugar. Chocolate Nestle morsels. Walnuts. Mmmm. Try mixing those together by hand. It's like mixing quick-dry concrete. Like I said, labor intensive.

Anyway, Kim's already tied up making Moravian sugar cakes, so I'm not asking her to make cookies, too, if I want to stay married. It's either one or the other. If given an ultimatum, it'll always be the sugar cakes. Soooo good.

I am contemplating making some toll house cookies next Christmas, though. We'll see. 

But if I do make some, don't expect me to bring them to your party. They're that good. They might get gone before I get there.

I guess that's why I don't see any at the parties I do go to.

Mmmm. Toll house cookies.

Merry Christmas.