Saturday night I was bitching and moaning. Bitching and moaning. 12 bucks for a movie ticket in West Philly, can you believe it? This isn't London or New York. That’s like a 20% increase over the price from last year. And I was complaining about the increase in the company healthcare plan deductions. Also, and also, the guy had the unmitigated gall to keep a straight face as he took my money.
Well, I said to myself as I sat in theatre auditorium, if I couldn’t afford the $12 to get in then maybe I should waited for cable or something and stop griping. Then the commercials came on and I started to seethe. “12 bucks and I got to go through this. This isn’t London or New York, and I don’t want to be recruited by the Marines for Iraq, I’m too damn old.” I think I bitch like an old man now.
Anyway, the coming attractions started to play. I heard someone talking about an eye in the sky and I recognized the voice of JFK speaking about heading into space. I couldn’t quite see what was going on on the screen. There was some guy welding something. Was it a boat, a building? I couldn’t tell, but there note of music in the air that struck me as someone else wished John Glenn God speed. What is this? More words and more words as the camera pulled back from the lone welder still revealing nothing and then, “Space the final frontier.” The voice of Spock.
A chill ran through me. A thrill overcame me. This is what living was all about; I would only have to wait until December, 10 months, to prove it. Yes I knew there was talk of a new Star Trek movie, but who cared? I shouldn’t be so jolted. It’s a prequel and everybody knows prequels suck. But it’s been so long since I have been able to boldly go where no man has gone before (insert pun here) that it’s easy to forget all your misgivings and just go with it. I mean --- I am a movie buff.
So satisfied was I, that I realized at that point I could go home happy. My money had been well spent and I hadn’t even seen the movie that I bought the ticket for yet.
Cloverfield, good flick. A sort of Blair Witch Project meets War of the Worlds on 911. You actually feel what those Japanese people must have felt when they first saw Godzilla in the 50’s.
Now that I am at home though, I shall be looking for my official Geek membership ID card buried somewhere here. And I shall be reporting for duty on Christmas 2008. Maybe I’ll see you there too.
Live long and prosper.