Yes, I, along with millions of others, went to see “The Hunger Games” this past weekend. I was planning to wait it out but a friend really wanted to go so I decided to go. And now I remember why I don’t go to movies during opening weekend.
We got to the theater a half hour before the show time and as usual, it wasn’t early enough. We found ourselves searching for seats in front of the screen. Luckily we found some seats in the corner that weren’t too close and were actually very comfortable. I didn’t feel like I would be staring up the actors’ nostrils. Always a good sign.
My friend went to get some popcorn and soda, while I watched over the seats. There were two teenagers or young people sitting behind us who were quite vocal but I thought they would calm down once the movie started.
Um no..not a chance. They decided to add their play-by-play to the first couple of minutes. Luckily my friend turned around and told them to pipe down. They did for a bit but shortly thereafter, they started up again. My friend, once again, turned around and told them to shut their traps. And luckily they did. If they had started again, I would have had to turn around and I would not have been very nice.
The movie was pretty good until the lady sitting in the seat next to my friend got some messages. Her phone was in her bag and it lit up every time she got a call or a message. It was very distracting. At one point, she took the phone out and hid it under her coat while she answered the messages. This didn’t block out the glare from her phone in the least. I huffed; my friend puffed. Finally the lady put her phone away.
As the movie was close to ending, this same lady reached across my friend to poke at the person sitting in front of me. Apparently they were related in some way. My friend and I both looked at each other quizzically because we thought this behavior was rude and annoying.
Once the movie was over, my friend and I complained about how rude and inconsiderate people were during that movie. So much so that it took away from our appreciation of the film. I just don’t know why people can’t turn off their phones for 2 or so hours? I don’t think anyone is that important to have to be contacted so often – unless they are a doctor but I doubt that everyone whose cell phones were going off during the movie were doctors. Also, why do people feel it’s important to talk and make comments through movies? I can understand an occasional question from someone who isn’t getting a plot line but minutes of discussion are inappropriate and wrong.
I still enjoyed the movie but I would have liked it more in a quiet theatre or at home. It’s no wonder people would rather stay home and watch streaming movies. You don’t have to deal with other audience members.
Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Movies. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Saturday, February 18, 2012
O Sole Mio
My dad was a simple man. He took pleasure in the small things that life had to offer – a good movie, a nice garden, an excellent turn of phrase and a flavorful yet simple meal.My dad was not the type of person who said “I Love You” but I knew he meant it in other ways. I could see the love he had for us indirectly. One year for Valentine’s Day, he purchased a chocolate filled heart for my mom and then spent some time picking out the caramel filled ones for me. Another year he bought my mom a lottery ticket. It wasn’t extravagant but it was thoughtful and touching. In the way that he would call my sister ‘my little duck’ or in the way he would call me the ‘tempest’ or ‘earthquake’. In the way he told my dogs that he didn’t know what do with them. Some times the best indication that he liked you was that he would raise his arm in a fist and wave it around as if he were going to hurt you. The intention of the gesture was always the opposite of its meaning.
My dad was a generous man. He would use his handy man skills to help both my sister’s and my high school – making repairs and fixing their windows. In my first year of high school, my school had to relocate out of the neighborhood. My dad, my sister and I spent many warm summer days down in the East Village painting the new place in order for it to be ready for the first day of school in September. When he had time he would teach us how to do the things that he knew best. He taught me how to change a lose washer in a bathroom sink once and how to fix a loose doorknob amongst many other things.
I appreciated the indirect way he taught me to appreciate vegetables and flowers that you planted with your own hand. In the last few years we have enjoyed zucchini, tomatoes, eggplant and herbs that I grew in the garden. He was always excited to see how the garden was growing being the first one out to see what had developed in the days in between. He would give me pointers on how to make them grow faster or how to save veggies that were starting to wilt.
And speaking of tomatoes, the weeks every summer where the collecting and jarring of tomatoes would consume his brain; it was all he could think about. I remember weeks in late summer as a kid when my dad, my mom, my aunts and sometimes my uncles would go and collect tomatoes. There was a strategy to collecting the red fruit that a novice would never comprehend. Not to mention the appeal of a simple tomato salad with some olive oil, salt and oregano or a plate of spaghetti with fresh tomato sauce.
When speaking of strategy, there was no better way to see the machinations of my dad’s brain than when we was watching the game show "Jeopardy" every night. He would play the "Daily Doubles" and "Final Jeopardy" as if he were right on the sound stage in Burbank. He would often tell the players how to play the game from the dinner table or from the sofa. He would tell them that they were making silly mistakes even when he didn’t always know the answers himself.
My dad loved John Wayne. He could sit in front of the television and watch his movies for hours. He enjoyed his Westerns, his Bob Hope movies and his ‘I Love Lucy”. He delighted in his comedies especially “The Three Stooges”, “Abbott and Costello” and Roberto Benigni movies. He loved them so much that we weren’t always sure if he was taking pleasure in them because he would laugh so hard he would become almost inaudible.
My dad was very opinionated. Even so he would listen to your point of view, give it some consideration and then tell you that you didn’t know anything. Annoying as this was at times, I appreciated that he always stayed true to what he believed. Even if it was being passionate about the calls referees made during soccer games, or the price of things in the supermarket or the right way to drive, fix a broken pipe or do just about anything.
One of the things I loved best about my dad was the relationship he had with my husband and with my dogs. He would often come over to visit but he was never looking for me. He was always looking for ‘le belle della casa’ (The beauties of the house) or ‘the big guy’. Often my dad and husband would walk side-by-side in the street and the sight of them would make me smile. My 5’0” tall dad beside my 6’2” tall husband. Once in the early days of meeting my husband he said to me, “My neck hurts from looking up at him”. I chuckled because I never thought their difference in size manifested itself in any way except for the visual one.
When my dog Foxy would sit in front of him and surrender her paw to him, he would tell her “If you give me your paw, what will I do with it?” or “If you give me your paw, how will you walk?” Occasionally we would let my other dog visit with him so that they would spend time sitting on the sofa together watching television -- him petting her consistently and kissing her during commercial breaks.
My dad liked to walk outside early in the morning to see what the day would bring. In those short moments he could seize up what the rest of the day would entail. If it was snow, he knew it was going to be a strenuous and tiring day. If the birds were chirping and the sky was clear, he knew it would be a beautiful day. He was a big believer in the ‘early bird catching the worm’ and he would make the most of those early hours when everyone else was fast asleep.
My dad also liked to sing. Occasionally he would belt out an Italian song for no reason except that it was in his head. He often liked to dance because it made him smile.
I am grateful that my parents taught me well and raised me in their own special way. I am going to miss my dad more than these words or any words can express. I know he’s in a better place and isn’t suffering. Maybe now he will finally get to meet “The Quiet Man” in person.
My dad was a generous man. He would use his handy man skills to help both my sister’s and my high school – making repairs and fixing their windows. In my first year of high school, my school had to relocate out of the neighborhood. My dad, my sister and I spent many warm summer days down in the East Village painting the new place in order for it to be ready for the first day of school in September. When he had time he would teach us how to do the things that he knew best. He taught me how to change a lose washer in a bathroom sink once and how to fix a loose doorknob amongst many other things.
I appreciated the indirect way he taught me to appreciate vegetables and flowers that you planted with your own hand. In the last few years we have enjoyed zucchini, tomatoes, eggplant and herbs that I grew in the garden. He was always excited to see how the garden was growing being the first one out to see what had developed in the days in between. He would give me pointers on how to make them grow faster or how to save veggies that were starting to wilt.
And speaking of tomatoes, the weeks every summer where the collecting and jarring of tomatoes would consume his brain; it was all he could think about. I remember weeks in late summer as a kid when my dad, my mom, my aunts and sometimes my uncles would go and collect tomatoes. There was a strategy to collecting the red fruit that a novice would never comprehend. Not to mention the appeal of a simple tomato salad with some olive oil, salt and oregano or a plate of spaghetti with fresh tomato sauce.
When speaking of strategy, there was no better way to see the machinations of my dad’s brain than when we was watching the game show "Jeopardy" every night. He would play the "Daily Doubles" and "Final Jeopardy" as if he were right on the sound stage in Burbank. He would often tell the players how to play the game from the dinner table or from the sofa. He would tell them that they were making silly mistakes even when he didn’t always know the answers himself.
My dad loved John Wayne. He could sit in front of the television and watch his movies for hours. He enjoyed his Westerns, his Bob Hope movies and his ‘I Love Lucy”. He delighted in his comedies especially “The Three Stooges”, “Abbott and Costello” and Roberto Benigni movies. He loved them so much that we weren’t always sure if he was taking pleasure in them because he would laugh so hard he would become almost inaudible.
My dad was very opinionated. Even so he would listen to your point of view, give it some consideration and then tell you that you didn’t know anything. Annoying as this was at times, I appreciated that he always stayed true to what he believed. Even if it was being passionate about the calls referees made during soccer games, or the price of things in the supermarket or the right way to drive, fix a broken pipe or do just about anything.
One of the things I loved best about my dad was the relationship he had with my husband and with my dogs. He would often come over to visit but he was never looking for me. He was always looking for ‘le belle della casa’ (The beauties of the house) or ‘the big guy’. Often my dad and husband would walk side-by-side in the street and the sight of them would make me smile. My 5’0” tall dad beside my 6’2” tall husband. Once in the early days of meeting my husband he said to me, “My neck hurts from looking up at him”. I chuckled because I never thought their difference in size manifested itself in any way except for the visual one.
When my dog Foxy would sit in front of him and surrender her paw to him, he would tell her “If you give me your paw, what will I do with it?” or “If you give me your paw, how will you walk?” Occasionally we would let my other dog visit with him so that they would spend time sitting on the sofa together watching television -- him petting her consistently and kissing her during commercial breaks.
My dad liked to walk outside early in the morning to see what the day would bring. In those short moments he could seize up what the rest of the day would entail. If it was snow, he knew it was going to be a strenuous and tiring day. If the birds were chirping and the sky was clear, he knew it would be a beautiful day. He was a big believer in the ‘early bird catching the worm’ and he would make the most of those early hours when everyone else was fast asleep.
My dad also liked to sing. Occasionally he would belt out an Italian song for no reason except that it was in his head. He often liked to dance because it made him smile.
I am grateful that my parents taught me well and raised me in their own special way. I am going to miss my dad more than these words or any words can express. I know he’s in a better place and isn’t suffering. Maybe now he will finally get to meet “The Quiet Man” in person.
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