"What are you doing this weekend?" a fellow coworker asked.

"I have to work Saturday and then I'm going to a maple syrup festival and then on to my in-laws in Palmyra, Indiana."

"Oh, that's nice." Came the uninterested eye-rolled reply.

The thing is, it was nice. My days of going to the clubs, to the bars, enjoying the scene are long gone, if, in fact, they ever existed.

An enjoyable evening to me anymore is a well made home-cooked meal, a good DVD on the TV and a nice book to tuck me in at night.

I turn 30 years old on March 25. A fact that both announces itself with every breath I take, and sneaks up on me every day.

With each passing day I feel more the recluse, more the anti-social hermit. It's not that I don't like people, for I enjoy a number of folk's company. I like to laugh and tell stories and hang out. It's more that I don't feel the need to meet more people. The spark of excitement I once got at a room full of fresh faces is gone. Give me a small gathering in a familiar cozy setting and I'm much happier.

When I started this concept of Calendar Movies I had visions of lavish parties where my guests would dress up as characters from this month's film and eat and drink and have the times of their lives. Yet the reality has become that the parties are small affairs. Three or four people come for a simple dinner and sit quietly throughout the films.

Several times, I've gotten bewildered faces upon invitation to the party. As if why anyone would want to watch an old movie is simply beyond them. For The Wizard of Oz, I was even laughed at.

So, it is fitting that I watched March's Calendar Movie with my in-laws, in their little home in small town, USA.