Madagascar (6Sept05)

This week, we faced a serious film dilemma. Last Thursday, when we went to the library to pick up a few books-on-CD and a couple of family-type movies for our holiday weekend roadtrip to my parents' cottage, I was told that one of my reserved movies had come in. Under normal circumstances, that would have been a good thing -- especially since I'd been waiting for it for several months. The timing, however, was horrible. You see, library DVDs are due back in five days. That meant Tuesday. On Thursday, we were too busy packing (and trying to get ink stains out of our freshly-laundered clothing, but that's another story for another blog). Then we left the next morning and were gone until late Monday night. So I had to return this movie that I'd waiting months to see without having seen it. (And no, bringing it to the cottage wasn't an option, since

(1) it was in French, and my parents don't do foreign films, and
(2) it was also R-rated, and my mom still doesn't think I should be allowed to see such grown-up movies.)

As I grumbled about my position on Tuesday night, Paul suggested that we could just put off movie night, stay home, and watch the DVD instead.

That thought had never even crossed my mind.

I found a million reasons why it wasn't possible. Especially: "But I have to work the next two Tuesdays, and we'll have to go other night for the next two weeks!"

"It's only $2 more if we go another night," Paul pointed out. "It's not a big deal."

"I know...but..." I sighed. "The crazies go on Tuesday, and I don't want to miss it!"

"But you hate the crazies!" he argued.

"I know. I know. But they're entertaining. And my blog has been really dull lately," I explained.

"Would you like me to be crazy for you? I could yell and throw things. Would that help?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "It would."

What a husband I have. He's willing to risk public humiliation at The Cheap Theater if it'll make me feel better. Now that's what I call love...

So after much debate (Okay -- not too much. I'd had a crappy day and was really looking forward to seeing Madagascar), we jumped in the car and headed for the theater.

It was pretty obvious when we walked up that things were back to normal. There weren't any lines for the ticket booths. And there wasn't the same buzz inside the lobby. The ticket-ripper looked positively bored. Sure, there were a few people there, but they were more subdued than the summer crowd. And I noticed that the crazies were starting to return -- the people with the crazy hair and the weird floppy hats were making their way back. It's only a matter of time before I'm surrounded by them again...

I can't say that I really expected a lot of people to head out to see Madagascar on a school night right after school started. But there were still plenty of kids there -- and plenty of parents, who, as usual, had reverted back to being big, chatty, giggly, obnoxious kids.

Not long before the movie started, a couple of adults and a bunch of kids selected a row not far in front of our prime back-row-center location. I knew right away that they'd be trouble.

"See that little kid on the end there? He's already had way too much sugar," I told Paul as the little boy (I'm guessing he was about 6 or 7) skipped and twirled and bumped into people.

Eventually, their whole little clan arrive and took up a whole row: three girls, then four adults, then three little boys, and one more woman -- all of whom, I'm guessing, had just come from the ice cream place across the street. And then they'd shared a case of Jolt on their way in. The adults in the group were just as wired as the kids. They held shouted conversations over the heads of their kids -- and their spouses. It seemed to me like bad seating-arrangement planning to me, since it seemed like no one was sitting next to the person they wanted to talk to. They motioned to each other as they shouted, arms flailing. And all the while, their sugar-buzzed kids would yell things like, "What's that mean?" or "What's he doing?"

Ah, kids' movies. That should serve to prepare me for a long season of crazies at The Cheap Theater. And believe it or not, I'm almost looking forward to it. Just don't tell Paul I said so.