On Tuesday I talked about my anal retentive need for a plan. It turns out that it is genetic. Last night I got a call from my mom because she wanted to plan out what movies we were going to see when I'm home over the Fourth of July. And yes, I was incredibly excited that we were making some headway on a plan.

Anyway, while were on the topic of movies she asked me what movies were coming out during the summer. She had her calendar out and wanted to map out her summer movie watching (See! It is soooooo not my fault I am this way). I hopped on IMDB (thank you brand spanking new DSL line) and found her the information she wanted. I told her every movie that was coming out, regardless of whether or not I thought she would be interested in it. When we got to August 5 I told her that The Dukes of Hazzard would be coming out. And then she said the most disturbing thing to me ever: I bet you'll run right out to see that.

No. Not in a million years. Not if you paid me an ungodly sum of money. Not even if you bribed me with books. No, no, no!

And it hurts me to say that. Anyone who has known me for a long time or knows anything about my childhood can tell you that The Dukes of Hazzard was very important to me growing up. Friday nights were all about the Dukes in my neighborhood. All the kids would get together and watch the show, and then for the rest of the week we'd play Dukes in the street (I lived on a dead end street so it was safe). Try as hard as we could however, we never got our big wheels to jump as high as the General Lee. Sigh.

As sad as this might be, a lot of my early childhood memories are Dukes related. The first (and only) fit I ever threw in a public place was when I realized that our food hadn't come yet and I wouldn't be home in time to see the Dukes. The first time I injured Kurt the neighbor kid was when I was trying to make my hot pink Tonka jeep fly through the air like the General Lee. This was accomplished by climbing to the top of the tall slide in Platt Park and sending the jeep hurtling down it. Kurt sat at the bottom of the slide as the object the jeep was going to jump, however he ended up taking a jeep in the face. The first time I refused to get out of bed and go to school (I like my sleep) my mother told me she wouldn't let me watch the Dukes that night unless I went. She knew that was the only way she was going to get me out of bed.

Looking at all of this evidence you might be saying to yourself, she'd be the kind of nut to stand in line a week ahead of time for tickets for the movie, but you'd be wrong. Is it because I am opposed to television classics being remade into movies? No, I'm fine with that. When I first heard about it I thought a Dukes movie would rock the house. I was cool with Stifler playing Bo Duke, and Johnny Knoxville as Luke Duke was fine too. I thought the idea of Burt Reynolds as Boss Hogg and Willie Nelson as Uncle Jesse was simply inspired. So what's the problem? Two words: Jessica Simpson.

Is it because Daisy Duke should not be a blonde? No. Is it because no one other than my friend Melina could capture the true spirit of Daisy Duke? No, although Melina would make a great Daisy. Is it because Jessica Simpson is evil? Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner! So even though a Dukes movie is something I would dearly love to see just so I can relive a small part of my childhood, there is no way in a million years I will set foot in a theatre that is showing it. I can't, it's just too painful.

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