They also opened up a little coffee shop in the space next door. You can get at it through the theatre lobby. The Elixir of Knowledge AND the Silver Screen.
Whoo-hoo. Livin’ large.
And the final bonus item – they put in the 3D projector stuff.
So I‘m trying it all.
Oh, yeah.
I’m a wild man.
A small popcorn, a small soda, a large coffee, and The Hobbit in 3D.
Anyone over 55 can instantly see the dilemma I've put myself in.
A three hour movie. Two beverages. Yep, there will be a part of the movie that I won't see. Somewhere past the middle, I think.
I carefully start to leave the concession stand/ticket booth, juggling my impending discomfort.
(Small town, small crowd. Just one young gal who’s got the tickets and concessions while her teenage male counterpart gets projectors and cleanup.)
The young gal stops me.
“Here, sir. You’ll need your glasses.”
She’s holding out a small shrink-wrapped package.
“Uh, just throw it on top of the popcorn. Thanks.”
I find my preferred perch, all the way in the back middle, and begin to unload. Settling in, I take a big pull of the Elixir.
Oh, yeah. I like this.
The Elixir reminds me I paid an extra $3 for this whole 3D deal, so I rip open the shrink wrap.
It feels like being duped on the Midway at the County Fair.
(Yeah, I can break three balloons and win the giant stuffed Panda.)
(Yeah, these things will reeeeeeally make the movie a loooooot better.)
I’m holding big, black-framed things like I wore in Jr Hi. The only one who looked halfway decent in these was Clark Kent, who couldn’t get Lois Lane to notice him at all. Oh, yeah. Nice look.
The other five people in here have had theirs on for awhile. Glasses over glasses looks dumb enough, let alone Jr-Hi-Clark-Kent glasses over round, wire-rim spectacles.
A warped sense of dignity has me holding off. This is the same dignity that will soon be shattered as I stumble rapidly down the aisle, racing for the bathroom.
The movie starts.
Man. I’ve been hosed.
Just call me Rube.
The movie looks clear for the most part but around the edges it’s kinda blurry.
Hey, Rube! You be hosed!
I take a long sip in disgust.
Then the Elixir stirs a thought.
Put on the glasses.
I do.
Ooooooh, my!
Things are popping out.
Fading back.
Layers.
Depths.
Surprises.
Ooooooh, my!
Enthralled by the view and the majestic storytelling, I almost miss the warning bell before the “launch sequence” begins.
So long, dignity.
Oh, my!
Okay. There and back again. (My hunch was close. A little before the middle of the movie.)
About two hours & 5 “Ooooooh, my”s later, the movie ends. All six of us file out, dropping our Clark Kents in the recycle box near the trash can.
It is now early the next morning. The cup of Elixir and I are sitting at the computer in a quietly sleeping house.
Staring out at a dark winter street, I chew on my 3D experience.
I thought the movie was just a film with poor focus.
Nothing special.
Same old, same old.
Then my eyes were opened by the Clark Kents.
Incredible.
The things I saw.
Exciting.
Thrilling.
A sip of the Elixir initiates a small epiphany.
Huh.
The Clark Kents are like looking at Life through the Book.
Things are clearer. Sharper.
Things make sense.
Even the blurry parts and the fuzzy edges.
Especially the blurry parts and the fuzzy edges.
When life gets mundane, boring, or perplexing, I think I know what to do.
Look at life through the Book. And then I...
Ooooooh, my!