C.R.A.Z.Y.

I am a non-English phobic when it pertains to my entertaining stimuli. That meaning I hate watching sub-titled movies. I don't want to use more intelligence than I need to watch a movie. I just want to watch and listen, not watch and listen and read.
So I avoid these sort of films like the plague.

There is, however, one particular movie that I will watch over and over again. Not only is it French Canadian, but it's sub-titled in English, so I have to read it also. And it's laced with Catholicism, and forbidden sins of said religion, and lots and lots of music from yesterday and tomorrow.

I am speaking of the movie, C.R.A.Z.Y., which of course is a subtle acronym reference to Patsy Cline's top hit, Crazy. Each child born in this movie world was named beginning with a letter from this song: C - Christian, R - Raymond, A - Antoine, Z - Zac, Y - Yvan....'course we don't really figure this out until the end, unless you're a brain weave puzzler and figure this out from the start. Has no substance to the plot or movie anyways, so get over it.

What I find interesting about his movie is comparing it to my husband's strict upbringing of Catholicism, fashion, free spirit, "wish I could speak English" mindset. My husband was born and raised in a small town way up northern Quebec, where each corner had a church and an intersecting bar. And all were welcome - Including 13 year old boys, who began their journey of life based on the music of Frank Zappa and Ozzy Osborne and who knows what.

Go west young man they all sang to him. So he did. 

And he showed up in B.C. with a backpack flung over his shoulders, with St.Michael, or St.Mary, or Saint lady who can find things, or Saint person who will heal my pains, and he kneels at his bedside each and every night and crosses himself, over and over again, even crosses his eyeballs (which I personally think is an Ozzy influence) but insists it's merely eyeball exercises. Nonetheless, a miniature statue adorns our bedroom, a mere 3 feet away on the dresser, and for years I thought it was a plastic statue of the Virgin Mary. For non-catholics, I think we all believe godly people wearing long flowing gowns are girls. My mistake.

I lay a mere 3 feet away from Jesus himself, wondering if he's going to bleed blood from it's eyes, or cry or something. So this is our punishment, I suppose, being a non-catholic person, we're gonna' get you either which way. 

CRAZY

https://youtu.be/FYtrGjJOMpE