Netflix, you broke my heart

I've got to admit that On Demand is mighty convenient, but there was just something about selecting a movie at the video store that felt--special.

Underneath the florescent lights you could inspect the movie's cover, appreciate the clever graphic design (or, in the case of Persuasion and When Harry Met Sally, not so much), and read a full description of the film along with praise from the critics (or, in the case of the movie, Late Marriage, I should have). Perhaps it was an old classic, like Alfred Hitchcock's Notorious or a movie that you saw in college and fell in love with like Il Postino. The goal, of course, was to find exactly the film that suited your mood, which is something that you cannot get through Red Box, On Demand, or Netflix.

And I miss it.

This one's for my old roommate, Cindy*

Have you ever wondered why all of the commercials directed at men for different physical conditions are sugar-coated or watered down?

For example, "If you have E.D..."

OR

"What you may be experiencing is called Low T..."

Like, what, men can't have the truth spelled out for them?

You'll never hear a doctor say: “Ma’am, I’m sorry to say this, but you have breast c.”


*When I told Cindy I created a separate blog for my musings in prose, I offered this an example of something that I might write.

She said, "But you wouldn't post something like THAT on your blog, would you?"