Item #7 - Get Some Movie Culture

Jar Jar Binks . . . made me a movie snob. 

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I heart movies.  I worked at a movie theater back in high school, back when AMC employees got to wear cool bow ties and vests as their uniforms, and when then employees had to risk life and limb by buttering the customer's popcorn (when the butter vat was empty, you knew it. Mostly because you had the burn marks along your arm to show it after it sprayed the last bits of delicious fatty-American buttery goodness all over them). Kids today . . . so spoiled.

Anyway, there were 2 great perks from the job. One - they sometimes showed the new blockbusters to the working crew on Thursdays at midnight, before the rest of you common folk got to the following day. And two - unlimited free movies.  And when you're in high school, and you live in a middle class suburbia, and you don't really drink yet because you're lame, there's not a whole lot to do except go to the movies and see lots and lots of crap. But naturally when you're a stupid kid, if it gets you out of the house on a Friday night, it's cinematic gold.

I'm one of those people that's keeps ticket stubs from everything I've ever been to. I suppose most people do it so they can look back and see how cool they were because they saw Band X before they were big. But in this case, I just took a look back at some movie stubs from high school to see how bad my movie (or really, the group's movie taste) had been. Some glaring examples of movies that I may have actually paid money in a theater to see - Anacanda, Double Team ("starring" Jean Claude Van Damme and Dennis Rodman), and Bio-Dome (though for some sick reason I still enjoy this movie).  That is a quality trifecta of poor taste.

Then in 1999, George Lucas, a man I had previously admired and about whom I wrote a biography in English class, finally decided to make the 3 prequel Star Wars movies. And being somewhat of a Star Wars geek at the time, I was fairly psyched. So a friend got tickets early and as the nerds that we were, we went to see the Phantom Menace the day it came out (though no, were weren't nerdy enough to be one of the people you'd see in this classic Triumph video).  And for the first time in my life, when the movie ended, I walked out the theater and said . . . "what the FUCK was THAT?" It was disappointing in ways that I could have never even imagined.

For the first time, I realized that special effects could only take a movie so far. For the first time, I realized character development actually meant something. For the first time, I realized casting could actually destroy what little character development there was. It was . . . it was brutal. And the cornerstone for my and every other rational person's disdain was the completely unnecessary (and arguably racist) character of Jar Jar Binks. So thanks to him, and thanks to George Lucas, I've slowly but surely become more a movie snob since then.

Granted there's varying levels of snobdom, and I'm sure there's plenty of artsy types around elitist Boston that would scoff at my DVD collection, but Phantom Menace pushed my own movie snootiness above the typical American movie goers view of what a "good movie" is. I slowly gravitated towards what the critics recommended as opposed to what the box office numbers recommended (I joked about Kangaroo Jack in the chart above, but that was in all seriousness a #1 movie at the US box office when it opened. People in this country are sick I tell you). And I even slowly began to recognize and appreciate certain movie styles (like all semi-hispters, I love me some Wes Anderson movies).

So as I continue my journey up the movie snobdom chain, it was only fitting that I try and explore the cinematic world in a new way. And since I've seen more than enough garbage over the years (whether I recognized at the time or not), it was time to take in some old school Oscar winning films. And last week I had a triple header, watching 3 movies that won Best Picture on back-to-back-to-back nights - The French Connection (from 1971), The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), and On the Waterefront (1954).

At this point, I should probably be breaking down these films for you for all their great complexities, and acting brilliance and yada yada yada. Alas, while I've become fairly snooty in my movie selection, and in what I actually enjoy, as a critic I probably have no idea what I'm the hell talking about and if I actually tried to dissect these Oscar winners, I'd only embarrass myself. So I'll take the cheap way out and do some bullet points instead:

• Its always cool to see actors way before they did the roles you know them for. Gene Hackman and Roy Scheider (that dude from Jaws) in The French Connection. Alec Guinness (aka, Obi-Wan Kenobi) in The Bridge on the River Kwai). And Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront (yes, I'm sure tons of people relate him to this role first as opposed to The Godfather, but I'm 31 years old. I don't). 
• Man was there some old school racism in the 70's. The usual terms were thrown around in The French Connection, but I was especially amused by "you dumb guinea" and by the cops calling the French characters "frogs."And he didn't even look around for other Fenchies before saying "frogs" out loud.
• Also amusing in that movie - a game of street hockey played on roller skates, Panam airlines, and a character casually strolling up to the ticket counter at the airport and buying a round trip ticket from NYC to DC for $54, done so without showing any ID (though the clerk did tell the passenger to print his name on both tickets or he wouldn't be allowed on - that's some good old timey security).
• Going into the 3, I figured I would probably enjoy them in the reverse order of when they were made.  Newer = better, right? And even their topics suggested so - The French Connection being about cops going after drug smugglers, River Kwai being about a WWII POW camp, and On the Waterfront dealing with corrupt unions (and it was also the only one with a love story). But while I enjoyed all 3, I actually enjoyed them in the actual order they were made, thinking On the Waterfront was the best of the 3. Preconceived notions . . . . for suckers. 

And as a closing remark, not that I really need to say it . . . go see these movies. They're Best Pictures. They're, ya know, legitimately damn good films. 

Item #6 - Get a Psychic Reading

I am an engineer. I think rationally. I think logically. I dominated the logic section of the GRE's (if I know girls, and I think I do, they love guys who are boastful about standardized test scores). I understand basic probability, and that if you flip a coin 100 times in a row, and they all come up heads, heads still only has a 50% chance of coming up on the next throw (and if you don't understand that, then please, just stop reading. Go away. You have probably wasted way too much of your life savings on the lottery. We cannot be friends). 

Having the logical engineering mind is a fantastic thing. If the world were infested by zombies, like it's been in so many movies being shown this Halloween weekend, I'd like to think I'd be able to come up with a logical enough plan to survive the initial onslaught.  No need to panic.  Seriously, stick with me. We'll get through it.

But the inability I have to stop thinking like a damn engineer is also kind of a curse. It's probably a large reason why over the last 12 years or so I've moved my religious beliefs from straight up Roman Catholic, having gone to Catholic school from K through 12, to somewhere in the agnostic region (I assume somewhere down the list is a long-ass religion post. We'll get to it when we get to it). But going from knowing there's an afterlife to just kind of hoping there's one kind of sucks. It's a little depressing.

My insistence on logic and reason has certainly wasted many hours of my life arguing with my mom and ex-girlfriends. The deadly combination of logic and stubbornness does not allow me to walk away from a debate, especially one in which the opponent has clearly composed their basic argument on their "emotions" and "feelings", instead of concrete evidence and facts. "My facts are wrong? No, you're opinions are wrong!"

And my logical mind refuses to let me believe in "true love." Yeah, I definitely think there's something called "chemistry" that you can't really define and that only exists between select people. But rather than thinking everyone has a "true love", that everyone has one person on this Earth that they're destined to be with, I end up thinking about probabilities. If I randomly met 100 girls that I was actually attracted to physically, how many would I think I could end up marrying? 2 in 100? What's the equation for those odds?

(Number of shared interests + attractiveness out of 10 - number of DMB albums they own) x Seasons of Arrested Development owned on DVD

I assume my true equation is a little longer, but I'm getting off track.

I bring up my sometimes-annoying engineering mind because the idea of going to a psychic is 100% illogical. It is Anti-Alan thinking.  And after taking a 500-level probability class in grad school, I'm especially reluctant to believe that my future will be able to be predicted by a deck of cards. Was it fate that Card X got flipped up first? Umm, no. It was a simple 1/(total number of cards) probability.  The equation for predicting future does not compute

But once again, the list reared its ugly head. As Alycia and I were winding down our trip to Salem, and I needed to catch the next commuter train back to make my soccer game, we only had time for 1 more activity. I leaned towards a haunted house. She leaned towards a psychic, and smartly gave me the "you've done a haunted house before. You've never gone to a psychic" response. And of course, I couldn't argue with sound logic.

One thing that made me hesitant to go to the psychic? The cost. $35 for a 15 minute reading. Now, everyone has their own value for everything. I have no problem paying $5 for a beer at a bar when I can almost get a 6 pack for the same price at the store, but yet the idea of paying $5 for parking is insane to me. So paying $35 for someone that is the opposite of what I believe in is pretty ridiculous.

But alas, for the good of the list, I went with it, with apologies to the cheap hookers of Boston.

So after setting my fate based on the random probabilities that come along with the shuffling of a deck, my future was foretold.

Career

The first half of the reading dealt with the future of my job (and from here on out, you can just add "supposedly" or "allegedly" to the start of every sentence).

• My current employer is expected to come to me with an offer for a new position. 
• This position may require me to move, and it may be deemed as somewhat of a necessity on the company's behalf. 
• However, the offer won't be all that attractive to me.

This actually wasn't all that crazy (though really, how many people get this generic reading from a psychic). My company has a west coast location. They have offered to move me out there in the past. And recently, someone out here with my same basic position has decided to leave the company. So if I get offered to move out there again, for more money, to take over the vacant spot . . . OK, I might be a little freaked out.

The psychic went on to say that I'll also be getting another offer from a different company. This offer will probably be closer physically to where I am now and will generally more more attractive. More money. More stability. And I admit, this is not the craziest thing either. I've spent the majority of the last year working for one particular customer, and at one point, one of their heads said "if anything ever happened to your company and you need a job, call me up." So if they come calling . . . little more freaked. 

But that's not what the people (aka, my single digit followers) want to hear about

Love

Yes, I'm supposedly going to meet someone. And here's the details.

• She may come into affect when I have to choose between jobs (based on where she lives)
• She also works in the medical field, likely at a hospital, though she's probably not a doctor or nurse, as she dresses more business-like. 
• She more of a free spirit and is going to "loosen me up." 
• She owns her property
• She's pretty fit

At this point, I AM a little freaked out, because sitting 5 feet away was Alycia,  who actually fits those descriptions. But . . .

• She's an animal person, and probably owns a dog
• She has lots of hair, "kind of all over the place"

Alycia . . . . does not fit that description. Alas, my quest for love continues.

So as I continue on with this list, and hopefully hit 52 items, I may be writing the final post with my new fit, hair-everywhere medical-ish girlfriend in her dog-friendly house with my new job. Odds of that happening? 23.813%. 

Elsewhere

• Just a quick thanks to everyone that's actually reading this blog, and everyone that's written back positive things (though feel free to write negatively too. Maybe item #7 can be "get berated in my own comments section").
• I've slacked a little in the announcement aspect, but I do want to post updates on Facebook when I plan to do things, and anyone is welcome to join in any activity. 
• New ideas are always welcome. Email me. Post em. Whatever.

Item #5 - Visit Salem during Halloween season

Halloween is my favorite holiday. It has been for years. It may have taken the #1 slot about the time I learned Santa didn't exist (unless you're like 6 years old and reading this blog in which case . . . I'm kidding! Hooray for Santa!). Or it may have taken over #1 around the time I started drinking. Dressing up in a costume in your mid-teens in front of girls because you want some candy? Lame. Dressing up like a jack-ass later on when you can get drunk and beg girls for their "candy"? Much more fun. However, during my early-teens when all I wanted was non-metaphorical candy, I'd at least come home satisfied. So that was nice.

But being a jack-ass is what makes Halloween my favorite holiday. The more you know me, the more you know I am kind of a jack-ass (just ask any of my ex-girlfriends). But on Halloween, everyone is allowed to let out their inner jack-ass and dress as stupid as they see fit. Even the biggest wallflowers can come up with a clever costume and end up as the talk of the party. It's equal opportunity stupidity. And it's fantastic. I've dressed as various girls (sorority, school). I've dressed in uber-skin-tight spandex. I keep year-long list going just in case I'm getting costume-block come October 1st. The higher the degree of jack-ass-ery, the more props you usually get. Though i think theres also a direct correlation between level of jack-ass-ery and likelihood-of-going-home-alone. Oh well. There's 364 other days I can worry about reigning it in. But Halloween has no limits (that I've found yet. We'll try again this year to find them).

My own jack-ass-ery and personal experience aside, I would probably rank Halloween as the second best night of the year to meet members of the opposite sex (and by night of the year, I mean specific day of the calendar. Weddings may be easier, but those aren't specific dates).  If everyone is willing to dress stupidly and let go of their normal inhibitions, then . . . everyone is willing to let go of their inhibitions. And all the costumes lead to easy opening lines (or so I'm told. When I grow a pair, I can make that statement more surely). The full ranking of best days to meet members of the opposite sex:
1) New Year Eve 
2) Halloween
3) Valentines Day
4) Arbor Day 

So as a longtime superfan of Halloween, I've always wanted to make it out to Witch Capital USA for the Halloween season . . . and it only took me 7 New England Halloweens to do so. So on Sunday October 26, my friend Alycia and I took the commuter rail up for the experience.  Luckily, she had done it before, so she knew what attractions to avoid because they were underwhelming tourist traps (spoiler alert - there were lots of them).  So we'll just go with a picture tour here (a plog?), complete with snarky comments.

Yes, it's a statue of Samantha from Bewitched. It debuted in 2005. So instead of creating it during the height of the TV show's fame, they actually created it the same year the "smash Hollywood hit" Bewitched came out. Genius.

 

The Salem Witch Museum. From what Alycia said, its basically a bunch of animatronics that make It's a Small World seem life-like. Alas, we skipped it.

No snarkiness here. I got nothing but appreciation for people that go all out on Halloween decorations.

 

A lighthouse right by the the replica tallship Friendship. Yes, they named the ship Friendship. Get it? Its a play on words. Its clever.  

There was a small carnival along the water (is there a better smell than carnival food smell? Answer . . . no. We had corndogs. They were delightful).Considering they were put together by drunk carnies, these rides might be the scariest things in Salem. I mean, am I right? . . . AM I RIGHT?

 

We rode the ferris wheel. This is me realizing that since we were the second group to get on, I'd be stopped at the top with Alyica while they let the opposite groups off. 

 This is the uninterested face Alycia would make as we were stopped at the top.

 

Apparently the cemetery in the middle of town is the second oldest in the country (the oldest? I don't know. Google it or something).  John Hawthorne is buried there. He was a judge during the witch trials and the great-great-grandfather of The Scarlet Letter's Nathaniel Hawthorne. I think if you were a Hawthorne in Salem, you were probably guaranteed ass.

We caught a play/reenactment of one of the trials. After witnesses presented their evidence, audience members were allowed to ask questions. One harpie apparently didn't realize this was just a reenactment, as she basically tried to take down the whole Salem judicial system with her continuous questioning. I weep for her husband.

After hitting the bar (it would take some advanced withcraft to formulate a spell that kept us two near-alcoholics from enjoying the Fun in Sunday Funday), Alycia talked me into doing one more Salem-esque attraction that would actually count towards another list item. The rare item-within-an-item. So here's the sneak preview of list item #6:

Will I find true love? Will I get fired? Will I lose an arm in a combine accident? Only the cards know.