Okay, I admit my first choice for this piece’s title was the more mundane “Highlights of the Hamptons.” Definitely not a piquer of curiosity. (Hmm… “piquer.” Is that a word? It is now! )

On July 8 I was invited down to the Hamptons, Sag Harbor to be precise, as a guest of my son, Jeremy and his wife, Lucy. Everything paid, an irresistible offer from these lovely people. So I said YES I’M COMING before they could change their minds.

Sag Harbor is about 450 miles southeast of Montreal, on the eastern end of Long Island, N.Y. It may as well be as far as Paris: surrounded as it is by the rest of the Hamptons (Southampton, Bridge-, East-, West-), it’s probably one of the poshest areas of the U.S.

I’ll tell you a few things I discovered about the Hamptons in a later post, but for now I must explain that titillating title. (Alliteration: thank you, thank you.)

Since the object of this little vacation (five days) was relaxation, our nightlife consisted mainly of movies (on TV), hotly contested Scrabble games and even more hotly contested rounds of gin rummy.

One night, after Jeremy gave us a choice of movies to watch, we chose the Liam Neeson thriller. (No, it wasn’t one of the Takens.) I say “thriller” with some irony because there wasn’t much thrilling about it, except to try to keep score of the bodies falling from a great many bullets. I didn’t realize it took maybe 10 shots to the torso to fell a man! What death scenes! Such realistic movie blood! Interspersed with the body count were many scenes where two of the principals would “take a moment” and talk, no whisper, their hopes, dreams, regrets etc. – none of which we could hear. I had my hearing aids turned up to max strength but still, I and my hearing-aid-less son and daughter-in-law were constantly asking each other “What’d he say? What’d he say?” Oh, and it was always “he” since the female sex did not exist in this flick. It was all testosterone, all the time.

So about two-thirds into this kill-fest, Lucy and I could stand it no more – we got the giggles. Guffaws, actually. It was such a ludicrous spectacle, all this killing and maiming and for no great discernible reason, either. We laughed and laughed – that’s how disconnected from any reality the story was, and how little they got you to care about the characters. What a waste of a fine, talented actor like Neeson. Oh, and Ed Harris too, looking about 104 years old.

Oh, the title of this poor excuse for a movie? “Run All Night.” Keep away. Keep faaar away.