How Depressed Do You Have to be to Want To See Nights in Rodanthe?

Categories: Pop Rocks
Okay, so I’m not saying that my marriage is the world’s greatest or anything. Mr. Pop Rocks and I have our bitter moments, our mean-spirited spats, our drunken fist fights. (Just kidding about the mean-spirited spats part.)

Anyway, what I’m saying is we’re certainly not perfect.

But here is my question. How fucking depressed do you have to be, and/or how completely shitty does your love life have to be, for you to want to go see Nights in Rodanthe with Diane Lane and Richard Gere?

So far as I can tell from the commercials, Nights in Rodanthe is about a woman who is totally lonely and depressed, and she goes to some beach house, and she makes out with Richard Gere. And there’s a soundtrack most likely starring Jewel or some shit like that.

It’s like Bridges of Madison County Part Two: Electric Boogaloo.

Who watches these films? What women go to these movies? Am I, like, a traitor to my gender for literally laughing out loud when I see the ads for these cinematic events?

I guess someone must go to see them. Someone went to see Made of Honor. Someone else went to see Definitely, Maybe. And I’m sure a whole lot of someones went to see 27 Dresses. I know my mother went to see Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves in The Lake House. I believe The Notebook was very hot at the box office. And apparently Reese Witherspoon made a movie called Just Like Heaven which also was quite popular.

But I didn’t go see them.

I believe in romance. Granted, I believe in romance sparked by a couple of G&Ts. But it’s romance nonetheless. I believe in sweet nothings, and star crossed lovers, and maybe I even believe in running in the rain after a man who you know is your one and only yet will not give you the time of day. (I’m not saying I’ve ever done such a thing, but I could see how such a thing could be done.)

At any rate, what I’m getting at is I like a nice romantic gesture from time to time. And as far as escapism, I’m the first to settle in with a tub of ice cream and a Lifetime television murder of the week/eating disorder cheerleading flick. So it’s not the escapist part that I don’t understand.

It’s just that I can’t wrap my head around why someone would pay $10 to see Diane Lane and Richard Gere make out by the beach when they could masturbate for free to Skinemax.

Call me crazy!

-- Jennifer Mathieu

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