So I take my daughter to see "Sparkle," which doesn't, because of incongruities and unquestioned questionable ethics and plot holes you could lose a Buick in, but I didn't know that going in and the NY Times was able to live with it so I figured what the hell and anyway I'm the world's worst father who feeds his uncomplaining child a diet of hotdogs and cold cereal for dinner so I also figured I owe her at least this much. So I go.
But all that wasn't the real problem with, and happier resolution of, my Sunday matinee experience.
As we pulled into the theatre's parking lot we both were taken aback at the crowd. Cars everywhere, 1:30 in the afternoon. So what's the big release this weekend? I asked my daughter. Nothing she knew of, but I had my doubts that Middle America had been suddenly gripped by '68 Motown fever.
As we then advanced to the box office, I noticed one of the theatre's posters: profile of a sinister-looking Barack Obama, with the smaller print informing us that "2016: Obama's America"--"co-directed by conservative author [and certified cretin] Dinesh D'Souza!"--contains pretty much everything that the sinister Mr. Obama doesn't want us to know.
So we make it to the ticket-vending kid, and I start booming, "Ah, so this immense crowd is here for the Obama-hating hoedown, huh? What we have here is the Glenn Beck asylum on a Sunday outing?" This--and I ask for no forgiveness; it was as though we were in Nuremberg, ca. 1934--naturally embarrassed my 13-year-old daughter to no end, although the ticket kid grinned a bit and sympathetically nodded in gentle agreement.
Later, over cheeseburgers at O'Charley's, I tenderly explained to my daughter that those afternoon "theatre"-goers possessed every Constitutional right to fill their dense noggins with vile, lying, Riefenstahl propaganda if they wanted. But I too possessed a First Amendment right to lodge vocal disgust at voluntary imbeciles.
In time she grudgingly seemed to find some merit in this argument. If so, then even if the afternoon didn't exactly sparkle, it was worth it.