Anniversary details

Or, How I learned to Sit Through Two Hours of ABBA and Not Let the Rage Inside Erupt Into Barbarism During "Waterloo."

My wife set a worrisome precedent last weekend.

She reassured me -- as we entered to theater to see Mamma Mia! -- "Don't worry, it'll give you something to blog about."

I admit I already had some ideas -- A wrist-slashingly good time! -- but the thought that she can tell me to just make fun of something later when I don't want to do it in the first place ... well, that doesn't bode well. Next thing you know, I'll be expected to go shoe shopping for three hours without buying anything.*

To explain the situation more fully:

Mamma Mia! is a movie musical built around ABBA songs. ABBA was a popular Swedish group in the '70s. Their main demographic: Womyn from ages 5 to 60. (I'm happy to think that some in the audience may need the info.)

A full six weeks ago, me and Meredith had already planned to do something small for the anniversary -- dinner and a movie -- as times are tight and only look to get tighter. That led to an ongoing conversation about which movie to see.

I voted for "Wall-E." I heard it was excellent and I'd never seen a Pixar movie on the big screen. My wife wasn't enthusiastic, and suggested the latest Batman flick, and just passingly consdidered Mamma Mia!, which I vetoed outright.

But.

My wife has had a hard time the last few weeks. She's had some nagging health problems, stress at work, a gruff husband who's not pulling his weight at home.

So, the day of, I'm in a giving mood. She springs "I want to see a romantic comedy" into the movie discussion. Mamma Mia! it is. Only later did I realize she had worked that angle for six weeks before pouncing.

(Extra comment: Before the movie, we had to sit through eight or nine trailers for films that looked so bad, you wonder how people in Los Angeles can look in a mirror, much less a camera.**)

As far as Mamma Mia!, if you've read any of the criticisms, you know what you're going to get. A ridiculous plot and enough kitsch to choke on.

The good things about Mamma Mia!:

• Greece is beautiful. I should go there some day.

The bad things about Mamma Mia!:

• You get a group of girlfriends who greet each other by screaming their heads off for 10 seconds before breaking into some asinine chant. Twice.
• You get Pierce Brosnan singing.
• You get a morbidly obese peasant woman throwing down her load of firewood so that she, too, may participate in the "Dancing Queen" number.
• You get an island inhabited by about 12 stereotypical Greek peasants and about 90 of the coolest frat guys and sorority girls ever.
• You get Pierce Brosnan singing, again.
• You get a girl who was born in 1988, the summer of love.
• You get a cathartic wedding cancelation, followed by an on-the-spot wedding, that everyone is just fine with.
• And finally, you get an overlong scene of people dancing in a geyser, complete with close-ups of sopping wet, 60-year-old men ripping off their shirts.
• (I would have said "spoiler alert," but it's not like you can't see it all coming.)

But.

I realized at one point that I don't actually hate ABBA.

Hear me out. ABBA was huge when I was growing up, so it's not like I could help having the songs pounded into my head day-in, day-out until my tenth birthday. It's hard to hate something that familiar, or to even be able judge if it's good or bad.

And it's not like the songs are really hateable. The music and lyrics bend over backwards to not be offensive, only catchy and easy to sing. Hating ABBA is like hating Sesame Street for not having an edge.

Tho I'll admit that, if Honey Honey doesn't stop running around in my head soon, I'm going in after it with an ice pick.

*The resulting blog post: "Yaaaaawwwwwpppp!"
**"A Playboy bunny gets thrown out of the mansion and unwittingly becomes the housemom for the dorkiest sorority on campus."