I couldn’t care less how cornball that was. All sublime things are sorta lame, aren’t they?
Hollywood’s sorta lost this knack. Occasionally we watch a DVD, and the mildly out-of-date coming attractions show a drunk and a hooker self destructing in a seedy motel room in Vegas while the voice over intones sonorously:
It’s the love story of our times…
My wife and I burst out laughing every time. Good luck kids. No matter what, though, don’t end up like my wife and I; what a hopeless square everyone will think you are. Behind your back, they’ll even tell your friends you probably like the Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose.