The year was 1965. A friend and former colleague of mine was just that of the US Air Force and was part of a think tank in Washington DC. As is always case, at close of business on Friday the members of this think tank would head home to decompress as best they could.
As it is with any group, the head of this particular gaggle of think tankers was especially revered by his subordinates. When Friday rolled around he would, on occasion, invite one of the other members of the group to go with him for a Friday evening supper. One particular Friday, my colleague was given the privilege of escorting this gentleman to places unknown. Since my friend was still single at the time, he accompanied this quiet genius after work and was taken to a movie theater. Puzzled, he accompanied said genius to a large theater that was not packed, but well filled. As was the case with many movie theaters of the time when the show time arrived the curtains in front of the screen swept back, the lights dimmed, the projector came to life and they were greeted with the first scene in the refrain “the Hills are alive…” (Of course it was The Sound of Music).
Upon hearing the refrain from the sweet voice of Julie Andrews, the ancient genius slumped into his seat in the only thing he said was “AHHH Glorious Garbage!”
It was explained to me by my colleague that any movie where you did not have to think, following complex plot, or otherwise utilize your brain matter, the filled the qualifications of Glorious Garbage. After a long, long, week-long exercise in conquering the world, there was no better way in this elderly genius his mind to decompress them to allow the glorious garbage to flow through his neurons.
In so dear friends, when you hear me describe a movie is glorious garbage it is by no means an insult to the director or producer or anyone else who may want to see it. It is simply indicating that in my humble judgment it is a fit cure for what ails the mind particularly when it has become exhausted from use.
And that! Is glorious garbage!