(photo courtesy of L.A. Times)
Batman wasn't the bomb. I saw a lot go off. That's true. But I wasn't all that thrilled.
"Is the same movie," my father said. "They use the same car and scenery."
"I swear. I see this movie."
"You mean Batman Begins?"
"Yes, with the same scenery."
I shrug my shoulders. It a was a long movie. I wasn't going to argue. I didn't have the patience. I have been struggling with non-smoking Pirooz, and I now have some consecutive days going with no slip-ups, so I had very little patience to get into some all out argument.
"Heath Ledger was interesting," I said.
"Yes," my dad agreed.
Then both my parents coddled me for doing so good with the non-smoking. I think they even gave me some type of advice. I was hallucinating though. It was seven in the morning. I had the running gear on. I just headed out in the rain. The last thing I remember my dad saying was that he was glad I wasn't upset.
"I'm not upset," I told him. "I'm angry at cigarettes."
"Let it out," my dad said. "Punch a pillow."
I looked at my new running shoes. They had some strange shoelace job. I couldn't figure out which way the laces went.
"You can punch me," my dad added.
I decided to pull the laces in under the strange plastic keyhole and then back through the other side. I don't know if this was right, but my laces were tied.
"I am going running," I said.
"Pirooz!" my mom shouted. "Lock the door!"
"Lock it then," I said. "Just leave the keys for me."
I headed up the street. It felt good to run with no smoke in the system. I even waved at the horses. They didn't wave back.