Pretty Good Neighborhood

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There's an old 80's movie called About Last Night.

Funny movie with Rob Lowe, Jim Belushi and Demi Moore.

Back when it came out my brothers and sisters and I caught it a bunch of times and to this day we all use lines from the film in our everyday lives.

"You're as much fun as a stick."

"What'd'ya' want a dozen roses?"

"Was she a pro?"

Most of those lines came out of Belushi's mouth.

But the one line that sort of also has stuck with me through time has kind of been on replay in my mind since I first heard about the terrorist attacks in France.

Rob Lowe's character is hungover on Thanksgiving Day and he's talking to the know-it-all friend of Demi Moore. She is attacking him for being stuck inside his own head and not caring about anyone but himself.

"What about what is going on in the Middle East?" she asks.

"I live in a pretty good neighborhood," he answers.

The outside world enters my mind through my left hand where I hold my phone.

I started receiving the updates from various news sources.

Most of the updates I get these days is in the form of a tally:

10 shot dead in Anytown, USA.

140 dead in bombing.

I often imagine the terror and it scares the hell out of me...but there is a certain feeling of uselessness that passes like a wave through my mind.

Before I even look at my phone I know what the response will be:

Thoughts and prayers.

followed by:

Bomb the shit out of them.

Then the republicans will hate on Obama and the democrats will hate on Bush.

Lots of rednecks and libtard language going back and forth.

None of it doing anything but further fueling the anger that was initiated by a terrorist group bent on doing just that.

Tough guys and people of infinite peace debating what to do in bad grammar and accusatory tones.

Why bother getting involved in any of the discussion?

"I live in a pretty good neighborhood."

"Terrible what is going on in France," I finally remarked to my beautiful wife.

We were watching an episode of House. The dogs were curled up beside us on the couch. The kids were playing games in the other room. The sounds of their laughter coming through the doors.

"Now what?" Kathy asked.

"Suicide bombers and mass murder," I said.

Kathy didn't answer.

Because there is no answer that will be figured out in our neighborhood.

So.

Leaving the anger out.

No sense in doing anything but commiserate with those who lost loved ones.

Shake our damn heads at the violence.

And watch House.

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