A Short, Green Can of Whoop Ass
A Short, Green Can of Whoop Ass
It's Thursday night, almost 10pm Central...It's been less than 24 hours since I saw Episode II... and other than when I was asleep for four hours this morning, I don't think I have gone more than a few seconds without something about that movie crossing my mind. About 95% of it has been Yoda.
And all I can say is, simply amazing... simply amazing.
You know how they say that every six seconds a man thinks about... well, Episode II was the best cure for unwanted sexual urges that I have ever known.
Let me give you a bit more detail.
Last night, as I said I would, I met up with some friends at a nearby theater to check out Episode II at the earliest possible time; 12:01am. (or as a friend who claimed to have a watch set to 'atomic time' said, 12:10am)
My roommate (who is one Wookie pelt short of being a Star Wars fanatic) and I arrived at the theater at about 9:00pm, anticipating that the line would grow quickly and early in the evening. we were right.
Not more than 30 minutes after arriving, the lines started to wrap around the building. we had gotten ourselves into a 15-rows-back-and-center position with easy, and we didn't have to get to the theater on May 1 and post an address on our tent so the Pizza guy would know where to go. (Please see my last post about being a lemming if you're confused here... add another bullet to my list)
So we began our three hour wait. Is it only three hours, I thought. I remember being antsy for Episode II after Episode Fun came out. (desprately eager for something that didn't make me wonder if I was wrong to be a Star Wars fan)
And the time flew by. We had a couple of friends meet us out there and I got to catch up with some people I haven't seen in a while and even meet some new people. The next thing I knew, it was 11:00pm, and they opened the door and they started to shuffle the faithful in.
It was funny to observe how you could almost apply math to the waiting lines. You could almost say that an individual's dedication to the Star Wars saga was directly proportional to your position in line and therefore, the time you arrived at the theater. Getting there at 9:00pm put us at the upper middle class of Star Wars fans. We're not the wealthy landowners of the Star Wars saga; who loudly brandished their lighsabers every time the camera lights went on. Nor are we the impoverished bag ladies of the series; who lazily wander to the theater at 11:45, and wonder what's going on when a stranger hands us a ticket and we find ourselves in a loud theater at midnight with a 40 year-old in a headdress in front of us.
We are the fans who can't help but love the series, but who love to scorn the Comic Book Guys in our fan base. We puff up our chests with pride and proudly admit that we saw the movie on opening night... but (with out being asked) we are sure to point out that we did not wait in line for two weeks or attend clad in Mandelorian armor. Oh no, for that would be too much... to elite; too Donald Trump to my Yuppie EveryMan (henceforth and forever after called YEM).
Enough of the setup... let's talk about that movie... on Thursday.
It's Thursday night, almost 10pm Central...It's been less than 24 hours since I saw Episode II... and other than when I was asleep for four hours this morning, I don't think I have gone more than a few seconds without something about that movie crossing my mind. About 95% of it has been Yoda.
And all I can say is, simply amazing... simply amazing.
You know how they say that every six seconds a man thinks about... well, Episode II was the best cure for unwanted sexual urges that I have ever known.
Let me give you a bit more detail.
Last night, as I said I would, I met up with some friends at a nearby theater to check out Episode II at the earliest possible time; 12:01am. (or as a friend who claimed to have a watch set to 'atomic time' said, 12:10am)
My roommate (who is one Wookie pelt short of being a Star Wars fanatic) and I arrived at the theater at about 9:00pm, anticipating that the line would grow quickly and early in the evening. we were right.
Not more than 30 minutes after arriving, the lines started to wrap around the building. we had gotten ourselves into a 15-rows-back-and-center position with easy, and we didn't have to get to the theater on May 1 and post an address on our tent so the Pizza guy would know where to go. (Please see my last post about being a lemming if you're confused here... add another bullet to my list)
So we began our three hour wait. Is it only three hours, I thought. I remember being antsy for Episode II after Episode Fun came out. (desprately eager for something that didn't make me wonder if I was wrong to be a Star Wars fan)
And the time flew by. We had a couple of friends meet us out there and I got to catch up with some people I haven't seen in a while and even meet some new people. The next thing I knew, it was 11:00pm, and they opened the door and they started to shuffle the faithful in.
It was funny to observe how you could almost apply math to the waiting lines. You could almost say that an individual's dedication to the Star Wars saga was directly proportional to your position in line and therefore, the time you arrived at the theater. Getting there at 9:00pm put us at the upper middle class of Star Wars fans. We're not the wealthy landowners of the Star Wars saga; who loudly brandished their lighsabers every time the camera lights went on. Nor are we the impoverished bag ladies of the series; who lazily wander to the theater at 11:45, and wonder what's going on when a stranger hands us a ticket and we find ourselves in a loud theater at midnight with a 40 year-old in a headdress in front of us.
We are the fans who can't help but love the series, but who love to scorn the Comic Book Guys in our fan base. We puff up our chests with pride and proudly admit that we saw the movie on opening night... but (with out being asked) we are sure to point out that we did not wait in line for two weeks or attend clad in Mandelorian armor. Oh no, for that would be too much... to elite; too Donald Trump to my Yuppie EveryMan (henceforth and forever after called YEM).
Enough of the setup... let's talk about that movie... on Thursday.
