If you’ve just clicked over from our review of Jason X, you might be wondering if this is another piece of film criticism. But, no – this is indeed the new editorial, inspired by stepson Robert’s departure earlier this evening for his school prom. This is his first effort at such things – the junior version is really a dress-rehearsal, since he’ll get another in 2003, his senior year, allowing him to make all the screw-ups now, without them really mattering. This is why he is going to the prom with two girls…neither of whom are his actual girlfriend (it’s a long story), and is also why Chris was frantically driving round town at 4pm this afternoon, trying to find flowers.
There was a certain amusement value to be had from assisting Robert – a guy whose idea of dressing up is closer to “clean T-shirt” than “tux ‘n’ tails” – as he struggled with the intricacies of cufflinks, bow-tie and buttonhole. Not that I was much help, having worn a tie of any sort precisely once, I think, since coming out here, and cufflinks are solely part of some obscure genetic memory. I possess a lovely pair of TC cufflinks which Chris had made for me, but unfortunately, possess precisely no shirts with which I can use them. Still, we made it in the end, sending him out into the world looking the picture of elegance – albeit somewhat uncomfortable elegance, running a finger round his collar in an effort to breathe more easily.
The whole prom night thing is terribly un-British, much like the concept of ‘graduating’ from high school – we just tend to walk out and not look back, usually with a thought best summarised as “thank god that’s all over”. I’m a little concerned about Robert, as both graduation day and prom night tend to be associated in my media-influenced mind with some kind of disaster. For example, we have the local mayor turning into a giant snake and eating the pupils (Buffy), a peeved telekinetic wreaking havoc (Carrie) or an upset student coming back to her old school for revenge (Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night 2). In light of events yesterday in Germany, the last plotline seems particularly ominous…
I’m sure no such misadventures will befall Robert, however. Chris would be very upset – not least since we went out and bought a new closet organiser for him this evening. If he gets eaten by a giant snake, she’ll have wasted her time and energy (not to mention a wide selection of colourful expletives) in making it. I hope he appreciates her effort. I confess to feeling guilt at not being in there with her, assisting in the assembly. But her repertoire of curses is far superior to mine, since she possesses an entire second language-worth. So I can see it all going horribly wrong, and even causing a temporary-but-severe fracture in our relationship, which is not something you want when there are power tools about.
Besides, it’s not called “do it yourself” for nothing… 🙂