Last night, Rob, Scarlett and I watched Ghostbusters. I’m not sure if it was an advisable choice for a six-year-old or not, but it’s too late now, so I don’t want to hear your thoughts on that, Dad. (P. S. I love you!) Scarlett seemed to really enjoy it, particularly the fat green blob attacking a New York hotdog cart and the scene where Ray fell out of bed in the middle of the night after a ghost unzipped his pants. “Is this part going to be inappropriate?” she leaned over to ask me. “Um.” I said.

Rob hadn’t seen the movie since 1984, so I tried my best–mostly successfully–to not quote along with the entire thing, the way I am perfectly capable of doing. Ghostbusters is rated PG, which means Scarlett should definitely be able to see it, since most of the Pixar and Disney movies she watches are also rated PG. But apparently things were a little bit different in 1984, because I’m pretty sure you don’t hear the words prick, pissed, bitch, ass, shit or goddammit in, say, Finding Dory.

Why am I talking about Ghostbusters? There seem to be so many other things to discuss, both ALS related and otherwise. Read More>