I knew of the film, had all the pop-cultural references to go with it, but never sat down to watch it. Chitunga would be born 5 years later. Funny to think it is older than he is.
Last night, at the 27th year of his life in the 50th (going on 51st) of my own, we did a dinner of Thanksgiving leftovers and, because of his phone, watched Home Alone, as he air-played it onto a television set...this after watching It's a Wonderful Life (I'm sure both were available on cable somewhere)
I think that is special, and I was twisted and turned by time, age, and the endlessness of laughter and humor that came from his giggles, my memories, and the fact another Christmas season is upon us.
Truth is, much has followed the child actor, and I supposed tabloid television let me know the tragedy of such a cute kid. His screams were famous, but his adulthood rather tragic. Phew. Who lived in such a large house in Chicago in 1990? Who could afford a Christmas trip to France at the time? That wasn't my childhood, but somehow it appealed to the generation I grew up in.
The iron-burned face of a burglar. Classic.
A story told through the eyes of a...beautiful.
I can now say I've seen this move finally, but it took a while. I'm no better or worse from seeing it, but I'm definitely turkey-fatigued and love being trapped in a house, heat turned up with blankets, and knowing it is a-okay to chill out for an evening. This is bliss, no matter where we are in life....a perfect way to spend a Friday night.