"If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome." - Anne Bradstreet

Which explains why I'll always be a northern boy.

Such a great weekend. Some quality time on the new back porch, book in one hand, Corona with lime in the other, food on the grill, dog at my feet. Got my exercise on, too... a long walk along the river with Nina, a longer bike ride on marathon day, from home to downtown Boston, then all the way down the middle of Beacon street towards Coolidge Corner. The runners were on the northbound side, while I sped southbound, dodging drunk students and other cheering spectators. It was in the 80s, my first bike ride of the spring, and I was feeling it in the best way. I found Amie and Nina in the crowd, got chastised for my total lack of bike helmet (sorry, mom), but promised I wouldn't "forget" it again. I have no defense... just wanted to feel the warm wind in my hair. Yeah, I'm lame, but it felt so good.


Saw Kill Bill Vol. 2 at the Boston Common theater yesterday, and wow, did it ever put Vol. 1 to shame. An improvement in so many ways. The first part entertained me but felt so empty... dissolved quickly in my mind like cotton candy in yer mouth. The second one had much more character depth, better performances, sharper dialogue, more memorable moments. Loved it.

What I didn't love so much was the crowd. It's no surprise that punctuality is dead... it died a long time ago. Lay the blame squarely on the inconsiderate offenders, or on the half hour of ads and previews we've all come to know and loathe. "How about Kill Bill? It started 20 minutes ago, but we can probably still catch the beginning." People were streaming in right up until the title sequence. Grrrr.

So the place is packed, and after suffering through ads for soda, cars, & furniture, after previews of Soul Plane (ouch) and Hero (hot damn!), Kill Bill finally kicks in with a black & white flashback scene. Popcorn in hand, I'm so ready for this. But awww crap, here they come.

Yeah, straight up the aisle trudges a five member family. A massive dad, a bloated, mouthy mom, two toddlers leading the way, a baby in a stroller dragged along behind. And the toddlers are totally talkin', of course. "Mom, there's no seats up here!" "Where do we go?!". "I can't seeeeee!". It's a freakin' moron parade. I wish I could say I was surprised. But I wasn't. I tried to tune 'em out. Wasn't happening.

They pause next to us, still full-on blabbing, debating where to find five seats in the dark. So far we've missed the first couple minutes of Tarantino dialogue. Amie, suffering no fools gladly, says "SHHHHHH!". Other people join in "Sit down!", "Come on!". Nothing works. So Aim follows it up with "Y'know, you could try getting here on time." Uh oh.

"Now who are you talkin' to?!" asks the lady hell-beast, rhetorically, as they pass in front of us towards the other side of the theater.

"I'm talking to you, who do you think?" replies Amie, as they get further away.

"Oh, I'll see you after the show."

"Oh great!", Amie and I say in unison, as they head towards the front row to the only remaining seats.

Awwww yeah. Post movie rumble! I pay close attention to Pai Mei's training, filing away some tricks for later. I'll never defeat the dad based on size alone, so I'm going to have to count on superior skills.

Seriously, who would have thought these people meant business? I figured the crazy woman was just mouthing off, idle threats born of frustration. Even if she wanted a confrontation, what's her point? She deserved whatever words she got. And how could she even know who Amie was? It was pretty damn dark.

Well, maybe the movie fed her revenge fantasies, because as soon as the credits rolled, she stood up and started scanning the theater. Oboy.

The crowd rises, the freak-family moves to the bottom of the stairs, where we're headed. Amie's a few people ahead of me, and she passes right by them. Looks like they missed her, but they head out between us, still looking around. I catch a glimpse of Aim heading into the bathroom, and there I am, standing right next to the fools. They have no idea who I am, so I listen in.

"Where is that bitch!? I thought I saw her." "She's gotta be around here somewhere." "Are you sure you know what she looks like?" "Yeah, she's got black hair and a pink-ish top." Whoa! These people really want to throw down with the Searles! And with their three kids on the sidelines (or tag-teaming it?). I'm torn between feeling giddy at the total novelty of this whole thing, depressed that these people are allowed to raise children, and being slightly freaked out by the sheer size of the dad.

So they're dead-set on finding her, to do whatever it is they want to do, so they're hanging back watching the rest of the crowd come out. It slows to a trickle and the guy wants to get moving. "She mighta gotten by us, let's go to the lobby." I follow. "Where is that bitch?" the she-demon cackles again. Mixed in, I hear more than a couple people say, quietly, "I can't believe they brought their kids to that movie." Exactly.

I head back towards the theater, Amie's outta the bathroom, and I fill her in. "You're kidding!?" Nope, I'm not. "Oh my god, what are we going to do?", she asks. I feel like we're in high school and the 3 o'clock bell just rang. Is it out to the parking lot, or out the back, across the football fields, into the woods?

Turns out we're standing next to a mystery elevator, so we jump in and... it only goes up? One floor later and we have no idea where we are, but there are stairs so we take 'em. Four flights down and we hit the street, out an unmarked door on the other side of the block. We're clear, confrontation avoided. Alas, our tale has no payoff, no final fight, no nuthin'. I'm almost disappointed. But I think of those losers, standing in the lobby with their kids, watching the escalator in vain. Waiting to ... do what exactly? We'll never know.

Unless, of course, they end up reading this. Doubtful, but hey, if you're out there... Boston Common gazebo, this Saturday, at dawn. Amie says to bring your Hitori Hanzo sword. Oh, it's on.

posted by brad at 9:24 AM | direct link | rss (1:2) | |