I remember the first time I saw The Rainman.  I thought it was amazing that Dustin Hoffman could play that character.  He was so different than the other movies I’ve seen him in before.  I especially liked the voice.  My favorite part was when he farted in the phone booth.

Raymond: Uh oh fart. Uh oh fart. 
Charlie: Did you fart, Ray? Did you fucking fart? 
Raymond: Fart. 

I heard an interview once that that wasn’t scripted.  They were just in there, getting ready for the shot, and Dustin Hoffman farted.  They just played off it, and it became one of the best parts of the movie.


This week we’re in North Carolina, at a beach house with my family.  My mom, her two sisters and brother and all their kids and grandkids.  There are 8 grandkids here, including Claire.  We’ve been coming to The Beach since before I was born.  It’s a way for my mom’s family to see each other, at least once a year.  Growing up, it was usually the only vacation we took.  

We left for The Beach Friday night and drove all night.  My cousin lives in Jacksonville with her husband, so we stayed there Saturday night.  It was nice to sleep in a bed; we were both exhausted.

JR must have been more tired than I was.  I heard him get up in the middle of the night.  He went to the bathroom, which was right around the corner from our room.  I hear the toilet flush, and the door open.  Then I didn’t hear anything.  I wondered where he went; the bathroom is only about 2 feet from our room.  I still didn’t hear anything.  Now I was starting to get worried.  Where did he go?

Then I heard the dogs barking.  I heard shuffling, and someone muttering.  JR had gone in my cousin’s room, instead of ours.  He was muttering, “Wrong door, wrong door, wrong door.”  Over and over and over.

Just like the Rainman.

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