Make Mine Mike

I’m back.

Not only on the blog, but with the bragging rights, too, baby.

I blew it before because of Rocky Balboa. After renting it and ruining it for my girlfriend (“It ends with a big fight.”), for some reason I thought that the original Rocky not only won an Oscar for Best Picture and Director, but Screenplay, too. Adelphia knew Stallone’s ego would be more pumped than his steroided biceps if he could’ve called himself “Acacemy Award Winner”, as she jumped to her bragging rights dance and I schlumped away, dejected.

And unlike Rocky's saga, it looked like there'd never be a sequel. Months went by before Adelphia would challenge me on anything.

Unless you count fighting the crowd of kids gathered at the Hollywood Bowl to see John Williams. He was conducting his orchestra to play all the music he composed for blockbusters: Raiders of the Lost Ark, Superman, Harry Potter, and of course, Star Wars, when the light sabers come out and LA turns into a junior Jedi training camp with its own soundtrack.

Adelphia and I were having a good time, too. Drinking wine, enjoying a nice picnic she prepared, and between performances discussing the pertinent movies. John Williams also did some other composers' work, including music from a few David Lean films. I mentioned that I had never seen Dr. Zhivago.

"Oh, that's a good movie," Adelphia said. "I think it got the Oscar for Best Picture."

"No, David Lean's other movies, Bridge on the River Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia won, but not Dr. Zhivago."

But Adelphia was positive. She started arguing with me as the next song began.

I whispered: "Bragging rights?" And she nodded in agreement. Then I waited silently while the orchestra performed several encores.

As we headed out in a mass exodus down from the top of the Bowl, Adelphia asked what year Dr. Zhivago came out.

"1965," I said. "Y'know what else came out that year? Another movie I still haven't seen, though it's hard not to know all the songs in that musical..."

She thought for a second, then lowered her head in defeat.

High in the Hollywood Hills, I sang and twirled with my outstretched arms. "The hills are aliiiive... with the sound of... bragging rights!"

I nearly banged into the crowd and almost got pummeled by a forest of raised plastic light sabers. Adelphia laughed at me, but I didn't care.

It's good to be back.