My name is Lester Burnham.
This is my neighborhood.
This is my street.
This is my life.
I'm 42 years old.
In less than a year, I'll be dead.
Of course,
I don't know that yet.
And in a way,
I'm dead already.
Look at me:
jerking off in the shower.
This will be the high point of my day.
it's all downhill from here.
That's my wife, Carolyn.
See the way the handle on those pruning
shears matches her gardening clogs?
- That's not an accident.
Hush, Bitsy!
- Hush. What is wrong with you?
- That's our next-door neighbor, Jim.
- And that's his lover, Jim.
- You spoil her.
Bitsy, no bark. Come inside now.
- Me?
- Come on. Yes. Inside.
- Good morning, Jim!
Good morning, Carolyn.
I love your tie!
That color!
I just Love your roses. How do you
get them to flourish like this?
eggshells and Miracle-Gro.
-I've never heard that.
-Man, I get exhausted just watching her.
She wasn't always like this.
She used to be happy.
We used to be happy.
My daughter Jane.
Only child.
- Janie's a pretty typical teenager:
angry, insecure, confused.
I wish I could tell her that's all going
to pass, but I don't want to lie to her.
Jane, honey, are you trying
to look unattractive?
- Yes.
- Congratulations.
You've succeeded admirably.
Lester, could you make me
a little later, please,
because I'm not quite late enough.
Nice going, Dad.
Both my wife and
daughter think I'm this gigantic loser.
And they're right.
I have lost something.
I'm not exactly sure
what it is,
but I know
I didn't always feel this…
sedated.
But you know what?
it's never too late
to get it back.
