In the early nineties, Doctor Zhivago was one of my two favorite movies (the other being West Side Story). I watched the film at least once per year.

One day at work, shortly before he died, my father and I had an awful row. I came home and, uncharacteristically, began to drink. I drank straight vodka shots. And Kool-Aid.

I popped Doctor Zhivago into the VCR and began to watch.

I drank some more.

Kris went outside to do some yardwork (it was early June, as I recall, just weeks before my father died). At one point, I went out to talk with her, to ask her to come watch the movie with me. I was pissing drunk already. I spun on the grass, collapsed on the lawn and made grass angels.

"You're drunk," she said. She wasn't happy.

I went inside and watched the movie. And I drank.

I drank some more.

I began to feel sick. I'd never been sick from drinking, but this time I'd had far too much alcohol far too quickly.

I staggered to the bathroom, and there I vomited on everything except the toilet, the sink, or the bathtub.

Kris was, understandably, furious.

"Clean this up!" she commanded, but all I could do was sit in a pool of vomit, moaning.

Eventually I did clean the bathroom, but I never could get out all of the stains. When we remodelled the bathroom last year, there were still mall stains on the door from this episode. I used to look at them now and again as a reminder of what too much alcohol could do.

I never finished watching Doctor Zhivago that evening. In fact, I hadn’t watched it again until recently, as I was lying in bed, recovering from my knee surgery.

I associated the film with my father or, more precisely, the negative aspects of my relationship with him. Dad was not a bad man, but there were parts of him I hated (just as all children hate parts of their parents). Though Doctor Zhivago carried no overt reminder of him, the association was too strong.

Kris and I were never fans of alcohol, and for a time this incident made us more firmly opposed to it. I didn't drink again until, five years later, Jeremy and Andrew introduced me to wine. I'm still somewhat wary of alcohol, but have come to believe that there are times and places that drinking is acceptable.

I complain about the injustice of the modern Academy Awards, yet it seems a shame that Doctor Zhivago lost Best Picture to the syruppy The Sound of Music (a film for which I hold little affection).

On this day at foldedspace.org

2005 — War of the Worlds   The new War of the Worlds is not a great film, but it is a very, very good one. As an adaptation of the book, it is nearly perfect.

2004 — Pocket Bikes   This afternoon's hotly debated topic here at Custom Box Service is the rising popularity of those miniature motorcycles, Pocket Rockets (or Pocket Bikes). Actually, debate isn't the right word. We all hate them.

2002 — Brilliant Weekend   I had a brilliant weekend, a perfect mix of work and fun.