Monday, September 15, 2008

One Thousand Disappointments Part 3

I'm not much of a traveler (I've been out of the South three times) so when I experience things in other places I'm invariably impressed. And then saddened.

A simple thing like going to the movies puts me through this. I remember when I visited my sister-in-law in Florida with my husband. We went to this little local theater. I wasn't impressed by the movie selection; they were old releases. I was impressed by the atmosphere. They didn't have rows of seats - there were chairs grouped around little tables. They were all ragtag and dingy, but I didn't care. And there was food, real food. Wings. Pizza. Hamburgers. You know, food. It cost three dollars a movie for students; we all got in with old ID cards from our college days.

It left an impression on me (even though the movie made me want to find the star and hold him accountable for such a mess). I wanted some place like this where I live. Some place personal and small and colorful. I wanted it knowing that it didn't seem to possible where I lived, where dollar theaters went out of business because people didn't support them very often, where small places devoted to the arts struggle because they weren't appreciated.

The closest theater to me is big and flashy and somehow bland. You can buy your eight dollar ticket and buy your stale popcorn with the uric butter-flavored oil and your gallon-sized cup packed with ice and a sprinkle of soda for ten dollars. Then you can sit down and wonder why the floor is suctioning your shoes, remove the last viewer's trash from your seat, and sit down to enjoy some person talking to someone on their cell phone the entire movie. I might be dissatisfied, but this is what I get unless I want to drive another 20 minutes to another big, flashy theater.

However, I know I'm not alone in wanting more. I want a better experience, but I don't know how to get there. At least, not right now.

No comments:

Post a Comment