Woody time-travels: My brain cells were a cocktail of dizzy and peculiar, with a spritz of paranoia. Not the dreamy image of Jodie Foster floating peacefully to a planet’s beach in Contact.
Woody flies from LA to DC: I went home and booked a Wednesday to Friday flight to Stallone National.
"Rocky Airport? Really?"
Ode to Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon: As I took my next breath, I saw a man with a gun across the street heading my way. I picked up a ten-pound kettlebell, bolted to the bathroom like a senior cit with too much fiber, and hid behind the door.
“I’m too old for this sh*t,” I muttered aloud, trying to stay in the moment.
Woody in legal trouble: "Whoa, it’s like an episode of Suits, and Bricker is Harvey," I marveled with my mouth agape.
Emotional Layers of THE LAST FALL
Woody meets his wife in alternative reality: Cee dead-eyed me and advised, “Get some help. And don’t cross me, Wood … pecker.”
The way she said it sounded like “Muth … f**ka.”
Conversation between student and professor: “Mr. Endicott, you are a moral man. In the end, you’ll know the right thing to do.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I dreaded and hung up.
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