Not for the Elderly

I don't know if it was the chairs squeaking in the old Santa Cruz Theater that threw my concentration, or the long schlep from L.A., or the two glasses of Sangria I embibed pre-viewing, but I found "Inception" less-than-intoxicating.  It was a giant mind jumble of WTF.

I'm going to come right out and say it, people. I didn't get "Inception."  The youngest had to explain some of it: the beginning, the middle and the end, and especially the parts where I dozed off.   Luckily, the eldest son illuminated precisely why I didn't get it.  "All the old people don't seem to like it." "That hurt," I said.  "Sorry, but it's true.  You just don't understand multiple plot lines."  "Excuse me?  I'm all about multiple plot lines.  I watched 'Lost,' remember, and half the time, I had to explain it to you."  "Point taken, Mother." "Do you think it's because I don't play video games?"  "Maybe.  Or maybe it's just that it's too sophisticated for you."