Yesterday's Internet Movie Database movie of the day was Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, starring Paul Newman and Elizabeth Taylor.
When I was in high school I couldn't afford to rent movies, so I borrowed them from the local public library, which had a decent selection and was free. One day as I picked out an episode of A&E's Poirot, I overheard a girl in braces ask her mother about Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.
"That's a musical," her mother said, "Your father and I saw it once when we visited Aunt Sally. It was so sad though, let's get something else."
"I'm sorry," said I, poking my head around the corner in an honest attempt to be helpful, "but I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is actually a movie adaptation of a play by Tennessee Williams. I think you have mistaken it for Fiddler on the Roof, the classic Broadway musical about Russian Jews and a patriarch's struggle to accept change. But their both depressing- Ha!"
I don't know if I expected the mother to thank me for correcting her, but I certainly didn't expect the angry stare she gave me. Quickly I went back to looking at the television section. From there I could hear her a moment later, voice full of irritation and sarcasm, explain to her daughter that The Wizard of Oz was about a bank heist and that The Prime of Ms Jean Brodie starred Clint Eastwood, daring me to say something.
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Andrew used to try to get me to erase his fines because I was a page at that library. I refused, teaching him a valuable lesson in responsibility that has shaped him into the stalwart citizen he is today. In the past ten years, he's never once had a library or movie fine.
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