Those last thirty minutes of Spielberg’s meet the Aliens flick are quite awesome, and it had been years since I’d spent any time on Devils Tower with Richard Dreyfuss and our visitors from the great beyond.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but the movie was a harbinger of a visit I was going to get much later in the evening.
As it often does, this story begins with Buffalo wings.
Actually, they weren’t even wings. The package stated they were Spicy Buffalo Chicken Tenders. They looked and smelled so good, that I really had no choice but to put them in my shopping cart at the grocery store.
I usually pick up something quick and easy for Friday dinner, and even though I’m on vacation, I saw no reason to break with this tradition.
I was totally clueless to the encounter that awaited me…
Right after “Close Encounters” ended “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” began on the very same channel. I thought that was fate given that I had just blogged about the book and the Vogons and the idea of demolishing Earth for an intergalactic highway.
I had to watch the beginning of the flick to at least see the Vogons. Clearly, my Friday dinner was going to be all about Alien visitors checking out Earth.
I finished up my Buffalo chicken tenders and went to work on the new screenplay. It was a delicious, albeit spicy dinner, and it definitely hit the spot.
A couple of hours later, though, that very same spot was aching. Most likely from my spicy meal. I did what any Modern Philosopher with no medical training would do…
I made myself a bowl of ice cream to soothe my tummy.
I’d just finished watching another movie, and I realized that my tummy was gurgling. And it hurt. And it felt like Aliens had invaded my gastrointestinal tract.
Of course, I had been watching Grown Ups 2, and Adam Sandler movies have a tendency to make people sick to their stomachs. So, I wasn’t sure if this would pass once the credits had faded, or if I was experiencing a close encounter of the worst kind.
It ended up being the latter, Modern Philosophers.
I blame the Buffalo chicken tenders.
But Adam Sandler and his cronies aren’t going to get off scot-free.
There had better not be a Grown Ups 3!
When I woke up this morning, my tummy was still in distress. I thought about skipping my run, but then I remembered that I run with my legs, not my stomach.
It was a very trying 4.25 miles, but I got it done without any incident. While I had an occasional flashback to my Alien invasion, I was able to block out the trauma and focus on the task at hand.
To be honest, I was damn proud of myself for not only doing my run, but also for sticking to the longer 4.25 mile route. It would’ve been easy to either call it off altogether, or do an abbreviated run. Maybe eight weeks ago I would’ve opted to be a wimp.
Not now, though, Modern Philosophers. This was run #39 in the past 54 days, and I have a totally different mindset about what needs to be done to be happy and healthy.
Life is much better spent with my legs up on the porch railing, wiping the sweat off my face, and thinking about the new screenplay I’m writing.
It was a close one, Modern Philosophers, but I lived to tell the tale.