We all have those times when our communal obsession with movies or pop culture rears its head in unexpected, sometimes -in this case, definitely - inappropriate, circumstances. Something else'll be going on but suddenly a strange trigger will set you off and you can't, say, get the theme song to Cheers out of your head.
This is for those moments.
Last night I was innocently washing the dishes with the television on in the background. The local news was on and they were talking about the tragedy in Pennsylvania, the shooting and murder of the female Amish students. They were listing off the victim's names, and... one of the girls was named Rita Miller.
Last night I was innocently washing the dishes with the television on in the background. The local news was on and they were talking about the tragedy in Pennsylvania, the shooting and murder of the female Amish students. They were listing off the victim's names, and... one of the girls was named Rita Miller.
Suddenly my head was filled with the name - "Rita Miller? Rita Miller?" - echoing in some familiar yet unfindable tongue. Who was shouting it? Who is that? GOD! It drove me crazy so I threw the dirty dish I was holding aside and ran to the computer to google (this condition of ours that I am now bravely confronting owes a world of thanks to the invention of the search engine) what the hell I was suddenly be consumed by, this explosion of half-remembered voices... what was it?
It was the fake name Whoopi Goldberg had to use to obtain the "Four million dollahs???" that Patrick Swayze's character was murdered for by his supposed best pal Tony Goldwyn in Ghost.
Sigh.
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