Cute and Cuddly

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Remember that cute little kitten that used to appear in a mock-up of the old MGM logo and mew at the end of shows produced by Mary Tyler Moore? It occurs to me that that cat probably died twenty years ago.

The fact that he still looks just as fresh and cuddly on my copy of “The Bob Newhart Show” is another one of the underappreciated marvels of the modern DVD (as opposed to, I suppose, the ancient DVD, which was just a guy named Thag [Thadeus Harold Angelo Guajardo, for short] who stood near the campfire and told interesting tales that were never interrupted by commercials, just Thag’s toga catching fire because he had stood too close to the flames).

In just a few short years, I have already gotten so used to the perks of DVDs that I am a little irritated when I find that I’m watching one that doesn’t come with extras. You know what I mean: a featurette on the making of the movie, a commentary track where you get to hear the director doing something you’d kill him for in an ordinary setting (talking during the movie) and all three hundred of the theatrical trailers that were so bad they almost kept you from seeing the movie in the first place. I admit: I’m one of the people who watches all of these things.

I normally only watch them once. The movie itself I’ll watch over and over, through the years. So why does it bug me so much if a product I buy doesn’t have a feature I’m not really interested in? Shouldn’t the fact that it has what I DO want—the movie—be enough to satisfy me? You’d think so, but that’s probably because you haven’t been reading my columns.

It’s because I have somehow come to the ridiculous conclusion that I—having shelled out a whole ten bucks for a copy of a movie the director went into hock to the tune of a gazillion dollars for—feel entitled to “DVD extras”. After all, I am who the movie was made for, right? Well, you know, I think about that and it occurs to me that, “Yes I am.”

Most movies these days, it seems, are made for other movie makers. If you can make yourself sit through one of the increasingly banal awards shows, you’ll find that the movies getting the awards are not just movies you never saw, they’re movies you never heard of. That’s fine if that’s the sort of movie the movie-makers want to make. Just don’t assume I’ll want to see it. After all, when I write these columns, I don’t just assume you’ll want to read them.

Finally, there are several web sites where you can look up the graves of famous people and even find out their exact location (Smith Brothers Cemetery, row 14, plot 16b, etc.). That’s how I came to be at Geronimo’s grave one day. I bring this up because I wonder where they buried that cat. I’d kind of like to go pay my respects.