Salt of the Earth Filmmaking

Boy, the kids today. I just don’t know what we’re going to do with them. If they’re not typing away on their Google Pods and Text Phones, they’re off listening to the rap music, growing their hair too long, or—worst of all—going to the Super-Plex to watch some gosh-awful picture show.

I tell you, I don’t have any desire watching a “flick” about people I wouldn’t want to meet in real life. The square-jawed blokes and buxom blondes on the silver screen are always so fast-talking and busy, drinking booze at parties and jumping from one flaming building to another. Not the “salt-of-the-earth” folks I’d rather associate with.

Why can’t they make a movies about a single mom living in the projects, driving a rusty Corsica to her waitressing job and trying keeping her alcoholic mother out of prison? Where’s the “block-buster” about the bi-polar 50-something agoraphobic man that keeps rusty pop can tops in a margarine bucket? That’s more interesting to me.

But I guess they won’t make any movies about someone that doesn’t type away on a Hand Pilot or a Blue-Berry in the back of a SUV limousine. And I’ll just have to learn to live with that.