I am not the craziest man in Portland. But I could have been.
We left the house at 9:15am, G drove me to Lloyd Cinemas to get in line for Star Wars. Mysteriously, there was no line -- but we set up camping chairs anyway, hoping against hope. After a while, the promotional coordinator comes out and has us move back so that we're not blocking the fire exits. Big smile on my face when she actually sets up the rope to mark the beginning of the line.
However, it turns out that when the ticket says "12:01am Wed", it actually means "12:01am Thursday" -- the "Wed" part refers to their business day. Dammit. I knew that Star Wars opens on Thursday. I even asked about this when I bought the tickets -- but the guy behind the counter assured me that yes, it was on the midnight of Tuesday turning over to Wednesday. ...Wrong!
SO, I was faced with a dilemma. I hadn't intended to be the first person in line -- but now I was given the opportunity. I was sorely, sorely tempted. How cool would it be, just once in my life, to be the first person in line? And for the very last Star Wars?
BUT. But do I really want to sleep over night? I think I'm getting another cold (nooo!) -- and sleeping over would exacerbate it. Do I want to give up 38 hours of my life? What else could I do with that time? Do I want to be the person that the news media interviews? (No.) How am I going to deal with food? With bedding? If (and when) this movie sucks, will the waiting make it just that much more painful? This is the last movie -- I'm going to have to grieve when Star Wars is done, when there's no more speculation, only an aging franchise -- will the build-up make the grieving process harder? What would being first in line mean to me? It would be a cool story to tell -- but who am I really going to tell it to? It's certainly not about beating out the other geeks; this would have to be because I'm keeping some sort of promise to myself. Oh, but remember how I got burned when Ep I came out, getting sucked into the marketing? And, apparently, there's going to be a special showing at 7:00pm as a fundraiser -- Intel bought the seats, as I understand it. So the honor of being first in line has been stolen by big money.
I want to be close to the front of the line in order to stay dry. And I want to go to the first showing because the energy of the geeks will be incomparable. And I want to get decent seats for four people -- I need to be reasonably far up in the line in order to do that. ...But all this only adds up to getting in line early tomorrow. Not to being the "craziest man in Portland".
So I'll probably get in line around 6 or 7am tomorrow. One day spent on anticipation. But not two.
[...Still, it would have been cool.]
It wasn't the deciding factor, but there was the additional insult of getting harrassed by two boys. One of whom, taunted me by offering to pay a buck for one of my light sabers, and then simply took it. His friend made further jibes about it being a "collector's item". Not happy. I had to actually make physical contact and grab him by the coat in order to take the saber back.
Apparently Star Wars fans are low in the U.S. caste system. Humph. How I suffer for my religious beliefs.
A shout out: G is the coolest ever. Even though both Ep I & II gave her hives, she's been nothing but supportive of my irrational enthusiasm. We had plans in place for what periods she was going to wait in line with me, and how she was going to bring back dinner in the evening... My excitement makes her happy.
It's going to be bad. In lots of little and big ways. I know it. Kevin Smith says different -- but I don't have a high regard for his opinions. And still, I don't care. Y'see, this is almost not about Star Wars itself. This is about me. This is a 28 year arc in my life, coming to its conclusion. How many 28 year arcs do you ever get to live through, huh? I see all the problems with Ep I & II -- I don't deny them. By my nostalgia is just that strong. In so many ways, Star Wars has made me who I am. And so I am filled with glee and delight. For me the movies transcend themselves. I don't think I can point to a scene in Ep I or II and say "I LOVE THAT!" But even so, there's this mystique, an atmosphere; just being in the presence of another Star Wars movie that makes me uncontrollably happy.
The same is really true for all sci fi. Everyone knows that I have a thing for robots. But there's not really any one robot that I think is the coolest. It's the transcendant mystique that I love. It's entering into the genre, even though it's almost always disappointing in its individual manifestations.
Maybe I should be critical of my nostalgia. I can dissect the movies, looking at sexism, racism, elitism, authoritarianism, right along with the best of them. [In fact, hearing people condemn the movies with rigorous analysis gives me at least as much joy as hearing them praised -- either course is giving the movies attention.] Yet, still, I choose to give them a sort of amnesty. How many things in life produce real glee? Until someone shows me a more direct, concrete way in which Star Wars is hurting people, I'm going to allow this irrational enthusiasm its space.
Well, then: waiting til tomorrow. *Wistfully dreams...*
We left the house at 9:15am, G drove me to Lloyd Cinemas to get in line for Star Wars. Mysteriously, there was no line -- but we set up camping chairs anyway, hoping against hope. After a while, the promotional coordinator comes out and has us move back so that we're not blocking the fire exits. Big smile on my face when she actually sets up the rope to mark the beginning of the line.
However, it turns out that when the ticket says "12:01am Wed", it actually means "12:01am Thursday" -- the "Wed" part refers to their business day. Dammit. I knew that Star Wars opens on Thursday. I even asked about this when I bought the tickets -- but the guy behind the counter assured me that yes, it was on the midnight of Tuesday turning over to Wednesday. ...Wrong!
SO, I was faced with a dilemma. I hadn't intended to be the first person in line -- but now I was given the opportunity. I was sorely, sorely tempted. How cool would it be, just once in my life, to be the first person in line? And for the very last Star Wars?
BUT. But do I really want to sleep over night? I think I'm getting another cold (nooo!) -- and sleeping over would exacerbate it. Do I want to give up 38 hours of my life? What else could I do with that time? Do I want to be the person that the news media interviews? (No.) How am I going to deal with food? With bedding? If (and when) this movie sucks, will the waiting make it just that much more painful? This is the last movie -- I'm going to have to grieve when Star Wars is done, when there's no more speculation, only an aging franchise -- will the build-up make the grieving process harder? What would being first in line mean to me? It would be a cool story to tell -- but who am I really going to tell it to? It's certainly not about beating out the other geeks; this would have to be because I'm keeping some sort of promise to myself. Oh, but remember how I got burned when Ep I came out, getting sucked into the marketing? And, apparently, there's going to be a special showing at 7:00pm as a fundraiser -- Intel bought the seats, as I understand it. So the honor of being first in line has been stolen by big money.
I want to be close to the front of the line in order to stay dry. And I want to go to the first showing because the energy of the geeks will be incomparable. And I want to get decent seats for four people -- I need to be reasonably far up in the line in order to do that. ...But all this only adds up to getting in line early tomorrow. Not to being the "craziest man in Portland".
So I'll probably get in line around 6 or 7am tomorrow. One day spent on anticipation. But not two.
[...Still, it would have been cool.]
It wasn't the deciding factor, but there was the additional insult of getting harrassed by two boys. One of whom, taunted me by offering to pay a buck for one of my light sabers, and then simply took it. His friend made further jibes about it being a "collector's item". Not happy. I had to actually make physical contact and grab him by the coat in order to take the saber back.
Apparently Star Wars fans are low in the U.S. caste system. Humph. How I suffer for my religious beliefs.
A shout out: G is the coolest ever. Even though both Ep I & II gave her hives, she's been nothing but supportive of my irrational enthusiasm. We had plans in place for what periods she was going to wait in line with me, and how she was going to bring back dinner in the evening... My excitement makes her happy.
It's going to be bad. In lots of little and big ways. I know it. Kevin Smith says different -- but I don't have a high regard for his opinions. And still, I don't care. Y'see, this is almost not about Star Wars itself. This is about me. This is a 28 year arc in my life, coming to its conclusion. How many 28 year arcs do you ever get to live through, huh? I see all the problems with Ep I & II -- I don't deny them. By my nostalgia is just that strong. In so many ways, Star Wars has made me who I am. And so I am filled with glee and delight. For me the movies transcend themselves. I don't think I can point to a scene in Ep I or II and say "I LOVE THAT!" But even so, there's this mystique, an atmosphere; just being in the presence of another Star Wars movie that makes me uncontrollably happy.
The same is really true for all sci fi. Everyone knows that I have a thing for robots. But there's not really any one robot that I think is the coolest. It's the transcendant mystique that I love. It's entering into the genre, even though it's almost always disappointing in its individual manifestations.
Maybe I should be critical of my nostalgia. I can dissect the movies, looking at sexism, racism, elitism, authoritarianism, right along with the best of them. [In fact, hearing people condemn the movies with rigorous analysis gives me at least as much joy as hearing them praised -- either course is giving the movies attention.] Yet, still, I choose to give them a sort of amnesty. How many things in life produce real glee? Until someone shows me a more direct, concrete way in which Star Wars is hurting people, I'm going to allow this irrational enthusiasm its space.
Well, then: waiting til tomorrow. *Wistfully dreams...*
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home