Return of the Ghost with the Most

The morning after our fishing adventure, my son pitched an idea over breakfast. "Hey, the new Beetlejuice is playing. Want to check it out?"

My grandson's blank expression said it all.

"You've never seen Beetlejuice?" I asked, feeling every one of my years.

My daughter laughed, explaining that scary movies weren't really in their regular rotation.

"That's it," Mrs. Lincoln declared. "Movie marathon day. We can't let you see the sequel without experiencing the original."

My son pulled up the original on his massive TV while my daughter-in-law and daughter made a snack run. They returned with an impressive haul: popcorn, M&Ms (which my grandson insisted had to go in the popcorn while it was hot), various chips, and those movie theater boxes of candy that somehow taste better than their regular counterparts.

Watching my grandson experience Beetlejuice for the first time was almost better than watching the movie itself. He was fascinated by the practical effects, laughing at the waiting room scenes with their bizarre collection of the dead.

"How did they do that without computers?" he kept asking. My son, who'd gone through a film buff phase in college, explained about stop-motion animation and practical effects, which only made my grandson more impressed.

Mrs. Lincoln and my daughter recited their favorite lines along with the movie. They'd watched it countless times when my daughter was growing up. My daughter-in-law, who'd only seen it once before, kept pointing out details she'd missed the first time.

After the original, everyone was pumped for the sequel. We headed to the AMC Highlands Ranch theater, this massive complex that puts our local Florida multiplexes to shame. The seats were these incredible recliners that made me wonder why all theaters couldn't be this comfortable.

My grandson, riding the high of the first movie, insisted on a full concession stand experience. The kid has expensive taste, what with the large popcorn with extra butter, a box of Sour Patch Kids, and a Sprite big enough to float a battleship. My son-in-law handled the popcorn refills (free, which impressed me), while my daughter tried to negotiate down the candy selection to something less likely to induce a sugar coma.

While we were settling in with our popcorn and sodas (and my grandson's impressive candy haul), we started discussing breakfast plans for the next morning. That's when the gentleman next to us perked up like we'd just mentioned his favorite topic in the world.

"You folks want breakfast?" he asked, turning in his seat. "Let me tell you about the best biscuits and gravy in the state."

What followed was possibly the most passionate dissertation on breakfast food I've ever heard. This man spoke about biscuits and gravy the way some people talk about fine wine or classic cars. The restaurant, he explained, was just across from the theater, and according to him, it was "heaven on a plate."

He went into elaborate detail about the gravy's consistency, the perfect flakiness of the biscuits, and how they made everything from scratch each morning. You'd have thought he was part owner, but no, just an enthusiastic regular who really, really loved his biscuits and gravy.

Mrs. Lincoln politely noted we'd have to try it, though I caught her eye. We both agreed that starting the day with something that heavy wasn't our style. The gentleman seemed satisfied that he'd spread the gospel of good biscuits and gravy, settling back into his seat just as the previews began.

A few minutes of the previews followed, which my grandson declared, "almost as long as the first movie."

The sequel itself was a hit with our crew. My grandson especially loved spotting references to the original we'd just watched. Mrs. Lincoln squeezed my hand during the nostalgic callbacks, and I could hear my daughter explaining little details to her son throughout the film.

Walking out of the theater, we were all doing our best Halloween-themed puns and quoting both movies. My grandson was already planning a Halloween costume, though it was clear he couldn't decide between Beetlejuice and one of the new characters.

"So," my son asked as we headed to the cars, "breakfast tomorrow? I know this place with amazing biscuits and gravy..."

The collective groan from our group was interrupted by my grandson's enthusiastic "Yes!" Sometimes you just can't win.

"Maybe we should watch the first one again when we get home," my daughter suggested. "You know, to compare."

And that's how we ended up having a double-double feature day, complete with a late-night popcorn refill and more movie quotes than any family should be capable of producing. By the time we finally called it a night, we were all talked out and stuffed with snacks, but happy.

Some days you catch fish with macaroni salad, and some days you introduce your grandson to the classics. Both are pretty perfect in their own way.