Thursday, June 28, 2012

Classic Cardigan: Being Sick Isn't So Bad with Dewi and Nora Ephron

First of all, I'm not sick. I'm just feeling heavy hearted about the recent passing of Nora Ephron, who was responsible for (among other things) one of my very favorite films of all time, When Harry Met Sally, upon which, I based one of my favorite posts (despite the fact that I wrote it when I had the bubonic plague crud).

So, in feeble tribute to this great writer, who will be sorely missed, I give you...

Originally posted on March 2, 2012

Wherein Dewi and I Interpret the Sick-in-Bed Moaning Scene from When Harry Met Sally

If I had to describe the state in which my immune system has rendered me today, I'd say imagine that I am a pair of 10-year-old boy's jeans, the virus I have is a bad grass/mud stain, my immune system is a washing machine (an old one with an agitator) and my brain is the hand that just turned the machine setting to Heavy Duty and then pressed Start.

Thank heaven for fabric softener (aka ibuprofen). ;)

But enough whining; this post is about moaning.

So who remembers the scene in When Harry Met Sally when Harry is sick and calls Sally on the phone to moan? (Hint: They were watching Casablanca simultaneously from each other's own bed.)

Image Source

This could be my favorite scene in the whole movie (I know, weird), but until this morning, a few minutes after I took some pain medicine and moaned a little, I never really understood (or cared) why.

Now I do.

It's because in my romantic comedy fantasy, *I* want someone to listen to *me* moan when I've got a cold (or minor body ache, mosquito bite, etc.).

And by listen I mean really listen, with genuine, selfless, devoted concern (like I am the most important thing in the room).

Yes, that is why I love this scene so much. Because it just DOESN'T HAPPEN in real life.

Unless one of the characters in the scene happens to be one's dog.

Allow Dewi and me to demonstrate:

Me (to Dewi on the floor beside my chair): I'm definitely coming down with something. Probably a twenty-four hour tumor; they're going around.

In my movie, we watch Gunsmoke. :)

Dewi: You don't have a tumor.

Me: How do you know?

Dewi: If you're so worried, go see a doctor.

Me: No, he'll just tell me it's nothing.

Dewi: Will you be able to sleep?

Me: If not, I'll be OK.

Dewi: What will you do?

Me: I'll stay up and moan. Maybe I should practice now. [moans....]

Dewi: (Unlike in the movie when Sally cuts Harry off and says goodnight...) Okay, moan all you need to. I'll just be lying down here listening, not judging.

Me: Okay. [moans...and eventually, lights out]

[thinks about eating bacon]

And, wouldn't you know? I don't feel like moaning (or whining) anymore. (hehe)

Have a great weekend, everybody!

UPDATE! (because Red Dog Mom noticed Jon Farleigh was missing from the scene)

Please note that he was actually "directing" the action from the right side of my lap.
('Twas a real blitch to crop him out of the photos.)

You might also note that I decorate my house with piles of folded laundry. You should try it when you need an added pop of color. :)

P.S. Thanks for the well wishes, everyone.


  1. Such a sad passing. She had so much more funny left to give, didn't she?

    Thanks for lightening the mood a little.

    Corgially yours,


  2. That director seems a bit...fluffy to me. Seems to me that your director would be a little more...hard hitting. Edgy. Maybe blue streaks or a snout piercing, you know?

  3. I was so sad to see the news about Nora Ephron too. She was a great inspiration to me as a writer. And I love, love, love When Harry Met Sally! We say so many lines from that movie all the time.

    Love that Dewi is not judging your moaning! :)

  4. Hi Y'all!

    I'm BOL!!! so hard I can't stop!!! Y'all are too funny!!!

    Y'all come by now,
    Hawk aka BrownDog

  5. I remember this from the first time around. Definitely worth rereading. And a wonderful tribute to an entertaining writer.


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