Once a month, I have a bunch of friends over to watch a bad movie together. We eat and drink and mercilessly mock a terrible action adventure film that we randomly draw out of a bowl.
Last month’s movie was 1997’s “Anaconda,” featuring a giant snake, an up-and-coming J. Lo, and an absolutely inexplicable performance by Jon Voight.
One of my friends returned home after this party and, as usual, had to answer her curious 6-year-old daughter’s questions about what she had seen. So they talked about snakes. They searched online to see what an anaconda looked like. My friend even mapped out the average length in their living room.
The little girl was fascinated. And confused, as it turns out. After all this research, she sat with a puzzled look on her face.
“But . . . how did they know her name?”
“What do you mean?” my friend replied.
“How did they know her name was Anna Conda?”
Movie magic, my darling. Movie magic.