He was witness to his own future being played out before his eyes like some seedy scene in a low-budget B movie of the 1940s.

It was not a pretty sight.

Geez, I've been watching way too many old movies. And, obviously, I'm no Frank Capra.

But the college kid did get a bit of a scare the other night. He looked down in the family room and caught a glimpse of himself in about 30 years—an old guy with middle-age spread, spread out on the couch watching an old movie.

And, yes, it was not a pretty sight.

"This is scary," he said, visibly shaken by the scene. "This is really scary."

"No, it's not," I tried to explain. "It's a comedy ... with Jimmy Stewart."

"That's not what I mean," he said. "It's scary to see you watching this junk."

"Junk?" I bristled. "I'll have you know that this is Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation —it's almost a classic."

"See, that's what I'm talking about," he continued. "You watch this kind of junk all the time. It scares me to think that when I get old and gray and chubby like you, I'm going to lie around the house and watch old movies on TV every night."

"I resent that," I snapped. "It's not every night."

Well, it's not! I remember last Thursday we went out for the evening. And then there was ... um ... well, there was the night that the electricity went out last winter.

I guess I'm just hooked on old movies. Not so old that they're accompanied by piano music and dialogue boxes, mind you—I do like the "talkies." But just about anything from the '40s and '50s, and maybe even the late '30s, can command my attention on a rainy Sunday afternoon, or a sunny Saturday morning ... or just about any weeknight.

It drives the college kid crazy.

"Are you still watching that stupid movie?" asked the 22-year-old the other day.

"It's not a stupid movie, it's a classic," I said, somehow feeling the need to defend myself. "It's All About Eve with Bette Davis and Anne Baxter. It won an Oscar, you know."

"Yeah, well, it's in black and white, for crying out loud!" he screeched. "How good can it be?"

"Well, I guess to a guy whose idea of classic viewing is watching reruns of Three's Company and Growing Pains , an Academy Award-winning movie would be a bit out of your league," I snapped. "Maybe we should turn on Baywatch reruns, instead."

"Is Baywatch on now?" he asked enthusiastically, suddenly getting very interested in the remote (it's amazing the impact young blond women in bright-red swimsuits can have on a college kid).

"Leave that television alone," I said. "Don't you have something to do ... like some homework or something?"

"It's summer, Dad," he said.

"Well, then go mow the lawn, pull a few weeds, water the ... "

He disappeared faster than Lamont Cranston.

It could be Dial M for Murder or Bedtime for Bonzo ... Gaslight or Arsenic and Old Lace ... Rear Window or The King and I . I like them all.

Sometimes Natalie will join me, unless of course my favorite comes on ... anything with John Wayne.

"You know," she'll say, "we have a few things to do to get ready for the wedding, like ... "

"I can't right now," I'll say. "This is The Sons of Katie Elder —it's a classic."

"Oh, please!" she'll moan as she wanders off to another part of the house to get as far away from the gunplay as she can. Because listen, and listen tight, Pilgrim, there's one thing for certain when the Duke is on—the womenfolk had better hide, 'cause there's gonna be gunplay!

The college kid will usually watch the John Wayne flicks with me, but the others? No, he's way too cool.

"I just don't want to end up like you," he said, "lying around watching all those dumb movies."

"Don't worry," I said, trying my best to comfort him. "By the time you're my age, you'll be lying around watching 'classics' like Tommy Boy , Ace Ventura—Pet Detective and White Chicks ."

"Whew ... that's a relief," he said with a long sigh.

With that, he was Gone With the Wind , and I could continue Going My Way through the TV channels, enjoying The Best Years of Our Lives lying around on the couch with Rebecca , Elmer Gantry and All the King's Men—hey, The More the Merrier ... yeah, that starts at High Noon .

You know, It's a Wonderful Life . (I told you I was no Frank Capra!)

Want to talk? Call me at 408.354.3110, ext. 31, or drop me a note at dsparrer@svcn.com.