Strange Maternal Feelings, Lukes

On Saturday, I interviewed my friend about her birthing experience. I always believed that there's no greater birth control that an explicit description of birth itself, but here's another thing that might keep your knees together. When my friend's infant cries, she feels it in her breasts.

I had some strange maternal feelings myself while watching Friday Night Lights at a homecoming weekend event. This movie was so good, it made me give a damn about football. In addition to being a quality entertainment, Friday Night Lights presents a tasty array of young meaty guys. Especially beautiful is Derek Luke, who's first appearance in the movie can legitimately be compared to the dawn for all his glory. But what do these sights inspire in me? Some boring "Oh, I hope they don't get hurt" maternal instinct. Even though these guys don't exactly look like they're really in high school (not enough acne, not gangly enough), they play high school students and I guess that's the problem. When I first started working at a university, the sight of young energetic men and their taught flesh gave me a few thrills. Guys my age were starting to get lumpy. College guys were so eager, so idealistic, so freshly filled out. Now, the thrill of the new is gone. I fear I only have eyes for lumps.

Speaking of old, I also saw Cool Hand Luke this weekend, plus Dog Day Afternoon, and What Ever Happened to Baby Jane (Just call the freaking police, why don't you? Aaggh!). "Sometimes nothing can be a real cool hand."