The Death of Common Decency

On Saturday, a group of us went to dinner and a movie.  We ate at Famous Dave's, a BBQ favorite of ours and caught an early evening showing of The Crazies.  We had lofty expectations for the film after seeing the trailer but my enthusiasm was quickly dashed after 15 minutes of uninspired direction.  The movie wasn't bad, I just expected more.

One thing that did not enhance our moviegoing experience was the rampant use of cell phones in the theater.  If it wasn't one person five rows in front of us texting for 90 straight minutes, it was the woman who got TWO calls in the last 5 minutes of the movie!!

My girlfriend took a poll of her 7th grade class on Monday and asked her students if they answered their phone in the middle of a movie.

All of the 25 or so kids raised their hands. 

She then asked if their parents answered their phones in the middle of a movie.

All of the 25 or so kids raised their hands again. 

BINGO!

As much of a curmudgeon as I might sound, I just don't get it.  I can understand if you get an important call.  By all means, answer it.  Just get up and leave.  At least put your fucking phone on "vibrate".  Shit, I do it.  I have received phone calls during movies, just never one important enough for me to pick up.

Cell phones in theaters are just part of the tip of a large iceberg.  People just don't give a shit about each other anymore. 

Last month, my girlfriend and I were coming back from the red-eye flight from Las Vegas.  We were waiting at baggage claim when this woman was trying to get her heavy bag off the moving platform.  Her bag was so heavy that she fell on the floor.  Mind you, I was a good 25 feet away but I ran over, got her bag off the platform and helped her off the floor.  There were at least 5 or 6 people closer to her who didn't even blink.  It was surreal.

I know I am not alone in this sentiment.  My girlfriend feels exactly how I feel and that is one of the many reasons we are perfect for each other.  We can't be the only ones...right?  Right?

Reply Hazy

As I sit at my desk I work, I feel the seconds picking away at my soul like carnivorous gnats.  The gravity of my cube prevents my dreams from taking flight.  Buzz words like "value-added" and "metrics" enter one ear and out the other like a large caliber bullet.  I asked the magic 8-ball on my desk for advice.  It responds with "Reply Hazy".  Of course.

Humble Pie

First off, I have to admit when I am wrong.  A few weeks ago, my girlfriend started a blog about her journey from a NYC public school teacher to a makeup artist.  You should all read it.  She's a much better writer than I am.  Anyway, she suggested that I start one and I dismissed it with about as much snark as Simon Cowell. 

Over the past few weeks I have looked to writing as not just a possible vocation, but as my salvation.  I took a fantastic comic book writing class at the Comics Experience that I highly recommend and the fire was lit.  Another byproduct of this class was the formation of a near fraternal bond with my classmates.  It that through this bond that we were inspired to self publish an anthology of the stories we worked on during the 6 week period.
Since the end of the class, my writing output has blossomed.  I have finished another script for a concept that I want to play with.  After another draft, I will post it for my former classmates to critique.  Their criticism has always been honest and never patronizing.  We all want each other to improve and to succeed.

I'm not 100% sure what the format of this blog will be.  I might write about music or movies, but I'm not going to post any mp3's (lawsuitphobia).  For now, I will wing it and eat my humble pie.

Cat, you were right!