It’s New Years Eve and we’ve eaten dinner already and now we’re sitting here, as a family, watching Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, again.
The original Jumanji is a classic but I think as far as comedy you can’t beat this remake. One of the few remakes I’ve actually ever enjoyed. The Rock and Kevin Hart are always fantastic together (see Central Intelligence).
We’ll finish this up and then go our separate ways (them to their rooms, the wife and I in the living room) until about 11:30 tonight.
I’m kind of interested to see what NYC is going to do this year.
It’s been a rough year for all of us. But if you’re reading this and still alive, it can get better.
At midnight tonight after your first kiss of the year with your loved one, or whatever, please step outside and join me in screaming JUMANJI at the top of your lungs.
Before I start, this isn’t a religious post or a post about freedom and liberty.
No. This is about a journey and the things that happened along the way. A journey to get to a place we were at the whole time.
Several decades ago, a writing team came up with an idea for a comedy/SciFi show for British television. I don’t know all the particulars but the first thing I saw was this.
This is an SOS distress call from the mining ship Red Dwarf. The crew are dead, killed by a radiation leak. The only survivors are Dave Lister, who was in suspended animation during the disaster, and his pregnant cat, who was safely sealed in the hold. Revived three million years later, Lister’s only companions are a life form who evolved from his cat, and Arnold Rimmer, a hologram simulation of one of the dead crew. I am Holly, the ship’s computer, with an IQ of 6000, the same IQ as 6000 PE teachers.”
The wife and I had moved to a new apartment on a Saturday. No cable until the following Monday. So I rigged up a make shift antenna on the TV (tube TV, that’s how far back the story goes) and all we could get was PBS.
And that was okay. Back then, PBS had some fairly entertaining stuff on Saturday nights.
The first thing that came up was Red Dwarf.
Every Saturday night we got to catch an episode or two. Right from the first episode.
And we were hooked.
The next three times we moved the series would start over again. It was like a good luck charm. And we would watch it all over, again.
Then we moved to our house here and it wasn’t on PBS anymore. So that Saturday morning we went out looking for the DVDs and found them.
And that first Saturday night we watched the first series.
It’s a tradition for our home. A weird one, maybe. But it’s ours.
Now we’ve passed that on to our daughter and son.
We’ve been to The End and The Beginning. We’ve been Tongue Tied and Backwards. We’ve encountered everything from Despair Squids to Pleasure Gelfs.
Don’t even get us started on Polymorphs.
We’ve seen the Boys from the Dwarf get into and out of all kinds of scrapes. We’ve seen them become hero’s and be the villains.
It’s a great ride.
And then we come to The Promised Land.
I wasn’t going in with high hopes for a feature length episode. I was thinking that might be pushing it for this show.
I was surprised. It was something I would have paid for at a theater. And I wish I could have seen it all on the big screen.
So here we are, at journeys end and we find out:
The Promised Land is not a planet.
It’s a place in your heart.
It’s a way of thinking.
It sounds a bit like home. But the building doesn’t make a home, the people do.
And now we’ve gone through it all. The family has seen the whole thing. Taken the entire journey.