Editorial
Front Page - Friday, July 2, 2010
Are we there yet?
A new low
Jay Edwards
The previews were already playing as we made our way up the stairs towards the back row. Sudden brightness from the large screen illuminated the seats, letting me see that most were occupied. But looking up to the back row, back in the corner, I could see four empty chairs.
I like the back row. It’s better for a couple of reasons. First, you get a better view of the screen, unlike when you have to sit down near the front and have to constantly move your head from one side to the other to take in the entire panorama.
The last time I sat on the front row was to see “Papillon,” at the Cinema 150. I still have the same nightmare that I’m in the ocean on an inner tube being pursued by Dustin Hoffman’s nose.
The second reason to sit in back is that distractions are cut down by 25 percent. There is no talking, popcorn smacking or drink slurping behind you, and no feet kicking the back of your chair.
Once, many years ago, Kathy and I had gone to see “Casey’s Shadow.” There we sat, watching the forgettable fare, laughing a little at the comedy of Walter Matthau, when a man in the row in front of us turned around and told the guy behind him, who was one seat over from me, to stop kicking his chair.
A few minutes went by and it occurred again.
Not long after that, his limited patience run out, the kickee stood up and turned to face his pest for the third and last time.
The mistake Mr. “Restless Leg Syndrome” made was to stand up also.
He didn’t stand long though as a hard fist to his nose caused him to fall backwards.
The original Rocky had come out around that same time, but I guess the brave punching bag next to me hadn’t seen it, or he would have remembered the words of Mick the trainer when he screamed at Rocky to, “Stay down!”
Instead, this poor guy stood again, but only for an instant, as the same fist found his same nose, this time releasing a burst of blood, which covered the front of his white shirt.
He retreated to the bathroom, his chair-kicking days suddenly behind him.
Back to the present we arrived at the back row. I was out of breath from the long climb, and fell into a seat, careful not to kick the guy’s chair in front of me. Kathy was to my right, next to the wall, and on my other side there were two empty seats between me and another couple, who looked to be around 70.
Whenever I’m in my seat waiting for the movie to begin I intently watch others as they come in and stumble about in the dark, before trying to find a chair of their own. It’s always such a relief to see them turn down another aisle, their loud eating habits and tales of an in-laws new wallpaper way out of earshot. If you’ve been to a movie more than say three times, then you probably know what I’m talking about.
So I watched like a cougar on a cliff as the older couple came into sight. “They won’t want to come up all these stairs,” I thought as they began their ascent.
Halfway to the top I fidgeted in my prized seat, worried more as they continued their climb. They weren’t even looking at the empty chairs as they passed.
They reached the seats next to me and started removing their coats. That’s when it happened.
Panic had me, and I blurted out, “These are saved.”
“Oh,” came the woman’s disappointed reply. Then she turned to the couple in the next two seats and said, “I guess we can’t sit together.”
“Oh no,” I thought to myself. “They’re together.”
The couple I had turned away took the seats in front of their friends. I was surrounded. Soon, when no one came to claim the seats, they would know my deception. It could get ugly, perhaps as bad as the “Casey’s Shadow” bloodbath from so long ago.
I began to pray for someone to come up the stairs and claim the seats. And if so, when asked if they were saved, I would stupidly reply something like, “What a kidder! Sit down old buddy!”
But no one came and the movie began.
I jumped out of my seat with my cell phone next to my ear and headed down the stairs.
When I returned I loudly said to Kathy, “Well they’re not coming. Car wreck.”
I can still feel her rolling her eyes at me in the dark.
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