Jennifer Moody

Here’s a fun, if somewhat frightening, little time-waster. If your lifespan were shrunk to the length of your favorite movie – you are born as the screen flickers to life, your death comes at the closing credits – which scene would mark your life right now? Would Ferris be on the parade float yet? Would Miracle Max be declaring Westley mostly dead?

Amber Digital’s website gives you the choice of “Star Wars” (the original, of course, you cretins), “The Wizard of Oz,” “The Big Lebowski,” “The Princess Bride,” “The Godfather,” “Titanic,” “Ghostbusters,” “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “2001: A Space Odyssey” and “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” There’s a link to a handy lifespan calculator if you don’t want to just guess.

In the movie of my life, assuming family genes and the Corporate Health Nazis pay off as promised, I’m right at the point where Grand Moff Tarkin has Princess Leia brought to the deck to watch the destruction of her home planet. Alderaan has just a few more seconds (a day or so, my time) before going kablooey.

In alternate universes, I have plunged into the lightning sand of the Fire Swamp to rescue Buttercup, hired the new, fourth Ghostbuster (hard to tell, but I don’t think we’ve discussed the big Twinkie yet) and narrowly avoided Ferris’ dad as he gets into a cab after lunch in the city.

That’s good, I guess. At least I’m not yet hearing the ominous, earthshaking footsteps of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.

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