Todo Tiene Su Como-Se-Llama

Zero More Shopping Days 'Till Christmas

For me, that is. I did it all yesterday. Well . . . most of it. That is to say . . . Hold on. I'll back up a bit and start slightly closer to the beginning.

After incurring the wrath of the parental units by anchoring myself to my bed all day Sunday, I was ready to put up with nearly anything on Monday. It had been decided that we would all drive down to Lubbock and shop and stuff, which was fine because I hadn't done any Christmas shopping at all.

Ian was my passenger for the journey down, and I listened to another hour of A Room with a View (which I continue to enjoy immensely). There was an incredible cross-wind trying to blow me off the road the entire way, and I nailed half a dozen tumbleweeds as they blew across the highway in droves.

Ian and I decided that we would go to the mall for awhile since that seemed to be the best place to look for what I needed. We wandered all over it and saw many interesting sights, etc., etc. I needn't bore you with all the details. I found presents for my dad and Micah and Ian . . . but I couldn't buy Ian's present because he was following me around. I had gone to the mall primarily to look for something for my mother, but I didn't find anything. It was most annoying.

Side note: Ian made no secret of the fact that he wanted the UT Longhorns cap he saw in the hat store. I told him I didn't know he was a fan and he disdainfully held his jacket open so I could see the bright orange UT shirt he was wearing. "Oh." Fine, so I'm oblivious. I discovered later that my parents are highly disturbed by his preference. I asked my mom whether it was because of petty inter-school rivalries or the extreme liberal-ness of the institution in question. "Both. Mostly the latter." I was amused. I bought him the cap.

My parents called and told us to meet them at Taco Bell. It took me several minutes to get out of the mall . . . the traffic was horrendous, I've never seen it like that in West Texas. I didn't know there were that many cars in town . . . Anyway, as I'm trying to force my way out of the parking lot and into the gridlock building up around the light, my mom calls us to tell us to be careful because the traffic is really bad.

Me: "The traffic is bad?! Get outta town!"

So I meet everyone (sans Brett, who is taking care of some business with a judge in Levelland) at Taco Bell and my dad decides that he's going to make off with my pickup (which was fine, because I had been riding on empty half the morning hoping someone would come along and fill it up) and leave me with my mom and brothers in the Oldsmobile. Things are looking bleak indeed (for all parties) when it is resolved that we will ditch Micah and Ian at the theater. I told my mom that once we had dropped them off, I needed some cash from the bank before we stopped anywhere else.

To make a long story short, after the theater we somehow went to the new Lubbock War Memorial, Mardell's, the mall, and Vision Center without ever managing to swing by the bank. I finally got some cash after we picked Micah and Ian up from the movie theater, but only because I spotted my bank just across the street. Oh, well.

The War Memorial was a lot nicer than I expected. It was built mostly of bricks, and each brick had a name, a division, and a war. Supposedly my dad's dad (Korean War vet) has a brick, but we couldn't find it. The bricks aren't in any kind of order, and there were thousands of them. The centerpiece contained a polished marble listing of all the local casualties in every war from WWI to Iraqi Freedom. WWII took up about 2/3 of this space. Placed here and there in the wall were carved quotes about war, patriotism, etc. from Kennedy, Lincoln, Paine, Emerson, Patton, and the like. It was pretty cool. The only thing that marred it for me was the shameless advertising carved in here and there: "Gene Messer Ford thanks our troops." "United Supermarkets support the US Military." etc. Bleah.

Met Brett at Mardell's. Marvelled at obscenely overpriced crap bearing the "Christian" label. Counted no fewer than 12 books written about Lord of the Rings, including a daily devotional entitled "Walking with Frodo." Discovered a series of Bible study workbooks with titles like "What does the Bible say about John Grisham Thrillers?" and "What does the Bible say about Destiny's Child: Survivor?" Ran rapidly past the long shelf of 341 Left Behind products. Saw a shelf marked "Fiction - Historical." Laughed. Read two or three pages of Wormwood (sequel to Shadowmancer). Gagged and choked double decker tacos back into stomach. Realized that I had only seen 1/3 of the store (had yet to examine kid's section, music, t-shirts and other clothing, school and office supplies, "art," candles, etc.). Ran screaming back outside.

We finally stopped at Hasting's shortly before supper and I wiled away most of the time making Micah extremely mad by reading stupid "Dubya" quotes aloud and laughing uproariously. He tried to retaliate by picking up a book of stupid Democrat quotes. Poor fool . . . as if I'm not equally willing to laugh at anyone. One of my favorite Dubya-isms, btw: "More and more of our imports are coming from overseas." By the time we left, Micah was livid . . . and my mother wasn't exactly pleased, either. Ah, well. Can't please everyone. I was amused.

We had a delicious supper at the Golden Corral and then looked at some Christmas lights in a nice neighborhood on the way to my grandparents' house. After nearly an hour bumming around there (part of which was spent on the phone with . . . someone) I headed home with Micah.

We listened to the dream sequence from Man and Superman on the way home, and Micah didn't know quite what to make of it. We discussed it a bit, and then we were home . . . And my Netflix had arrived! I decided to watch AFI's top 100 American Movies, knowing the calculated risk I was taking. By the end I had the whole family gathered around, fascinated. It was a very interesting experience.

Things were looking pretty bad at the beginning when my dad started snorting as they introduced the hosts and special guests. Woody Allen, Cher, and Bill Clinton were among those who got the most derisive reactions. Then, the first movie came up (#100: Yankee Doodle Dandy) and my dad said, "Well, they're off to a bad start." "What?!" "It should be a lot higher!" "Ohhhhh, brother."

After that, however, he was mostly quiet. My mom was disgusted that The Sound of Music was so low (#55), and Brett scoffed every time a movie came up that he had never heard of. However, things were going pretty well as we approached the end. My dad was sure that It's a Wonderful Life (#11) should have made the top 10.

And then came #7, The Graduate . . . I was forced to fast-forward past the various clips and expository remarks and everyone was thoroughly disgusted with the choice. Of course, none of them had seen it. *sigh* Didn't see that one coming. There was no more contention until #3, The Godfather. Neither of my parents had seen it, but they were displeased with the placement. Micah and Brett have seen it, and they agreed with were it was. Casablanca passed without comment, but I knew what was coming with #1 . . . As soon as Citizen Kane appeared there was widespread shock and dismay. I did my best to argue for it, and I had a few of them halfway convinced . . . but not really. Not that I expected success.

About halfway through the show, my dad scoffed at a statement that implied the importance of movies to our history, culture, and society. I turned to him and said that our society is largely defined by our movies and has been for some time. He glared and I said, "Well, I didn't say it was good a thing. I'm simply noting that that is the case." He grunted and went back to the screen.

I paid careful attention to both of my parents throughout the show, and noted their reactions to each movie. My dad in particular had something to say about many of them . . . he had all sorts of memories and stories attached to a number of movies. He remembered seeing them for the first time, and the impression they had made. He talked about being scared during The Wizard of OZ at a young age and going to see (I forget which it was) with my mother on a date. And both my parents had a dozen or more movies in their heads that they thought should have been on the list . . . Mary Poppins, White Christmas, Fiddler on the Roof . . . I was fascinated by this, and I pointed it out to my dad, in light of our earlier exchange, at the end.

He argued briefly, then went to bed looking slightly annoyed. But really . . . Every American remembers things like the first movie they ever saw . . . movies they've seen with their parents at specific times . . . the movies they grew up with . . . movies that were their favorites. And they are often very enthusiasticly nostalgic in their reminescences about these movies. They will converse excitedly with others about them, and happily watch them again and again, often with their own children, when offered the chance.

Great movies in our country create a shared experience that large segments of the population grow to either love or hate, but which everyone remembers. A movie can be a uniter or a divider in this respect, but it is still ultimately a communal thing, and that is what makes cinema so powerful. My dad may or may not have realized this last night, but by responding to the AFI list the way he did, he made my case for me.

Oh, yeah, and I was going to note that I kept a running count while I watched the AFI list and discovered that I have now seen 61 of the top 100. I am very pleased with myself.

And with that, I went to bed. After I had watched Hellboy (not a great American movie) with Brett. My mom walked in when we were about ten minutes in, and the following exchange took place.

Mom: What is this?

Me: Hellboy.

Mom: What's that?

Me (trying to keep it simple): It's a superhero movie.

Mom: Hmmmm. Okay. Don't stay up too late.

Me: I won't.

I love how she consistently fails to define "too late."

More later. West Texas out.

Posted by Jared at December 21, 2004 02:31 PM | TrackBack