"Small Bill" -- Richie's T.V. Obsession
Richie was sold on this immediately, and was obsessed with it for the rest of the night.
Only he misunderstood the name of the show and thought it was a movie.
"Johnny," Richie said. "Do you know a different Superman movie is coming out? It's called 'Small Bill.' Kids can see it. It's rated. It's rated...What's it rated?"
"PG-13?" I guessed.
"No. It's rated PG," he said.
"Did you hear what they said?" I asked. "Clark Kent lives in Kansas, where your cousins live."
"No, he lives at Kansas City Rock. Kansas City Rock n' Roll," Richie said. I guess that's kind of like Plymouth Rock.
Justin came into the living room.
"Daddy," Richie said, standing up on the couch, pacing a little. "There's a new movie. It's called 'Small Bill.' It's okay for kids to see it. We can see it at the movie veater."
It was bedtime.
"No, no. I'm drawing a picture of Small Bill," Richie argued. "I have to."
It would have to wait for tomorrow.
A few minutes later, I went in to tuck the boys in.
Johnny and J.J. were already asleep, but Richie was sitting up in bed.
"Mom," he said. "Remember that movie, 'Small Bill?'"
How could I forget?
"I want you to sing about it," he said.
But just as my falsetto voice hit the high notes--"Clark Kent goes to HIGH SCHOOL in KANSAS. He runs really FAST," Richie cut me off.
"I want you to talk about it," he said. "Just talk about it."
Richie's eyes got wide as I began. "Before Superman was Superman, he was just a little baby named Clark Kent. And his mommy and daddy sent him down to Earth in a big egg. Well, it wasn't really an egg..."
"Does that movie have bad guys in it?" Richie asked.
"I think so," I said.
"No," he said. "It doesn't. It's just P.G."
I swear, my kids ask me questions just to prove that I'm full of it.
"Clark Kent would run down the sidewalk," I continued, "and see that he was going as fast as the cars. And one day, he just took off and went flying into the sky..."
Richie fell asleep thinking of Small Bill, the T.V. show that proves that Superman is really just a boy and begs the question, "Does that mean Just a Boy is really Superman?" A boy like, say, oh I don't know, Richie?
Kids and their obsessions. Honestly, to get that excited about a T.V. show! Now, I need to log off and check out the "Lost" Dharma Initiative Web site before the kids wake up. The "Lost" season finale was a couple weeks ago and I'm still trying to make sense of it. Did fate crash the plane? What drew the group of loosely related lost souls to that magnetic island? I mean, besides the magnet? Who are really the good guys on the island?
T.V.--for all the bad it does--cutting down on reading time, keeping people inside instead of out on their porches--at least makes you think. And gets you hooked.
When I used to spend the night at my friend's house on Fridays, she'd wait for the ad to talk to her mom. Otherwise, her mom, would say, "Jen, I love 'ya. But I'm watchin' Miami Vice."
I would get excited about the show just because my friend's mom was. To this day, the Miami Vice theme song gets me humming along like no other, except maybe the one from "Golden Girls."
I'm going to find this "Smallville" on UPN or whatever teenager channel it's on and when I do, I expect to hear Richie say, "Mom, I love 'ya, but I'm watchin' Small Bill."