i've also taken on a new hobby - cheap movies played at the historic castro theater.
here's why
1. the movies there are 10 bucks cheaper than at other movie-houses and cinemas. which is good, because, well, you know...
2. it is less than three blocks away from my apartment...with zero hills
3. because of 2., i find it totally normal to go in my pajamas with a blanket (i am obviously alone for these ventures)
4. smuggling my own popcorn (thanks to monroe friends for mailing over my very own popcorn maker) and other snacks is super easy and money friendly (again, in large part due to 2.)
5. have you seen the inside?
you can't find beauty like that at the um, amc? is that what they are? one of those big chain movie houses.... lowes? is that one? wait dont they sell lawn furniture? i'm getting off topic
6. the films are better! i thought i had some sort of a film history under my belt, but this place has been exposing me to some good stuff while simultaneously playing some of my favorites. movies today are a little too dependent on flashy special effects and people whose teeth are damn near blinding when projected on such a large screen, so it's nice that i can go somewhere that plays movies before the movie world turned mostly terrible.
some examples? sure.
metropolis, the 1927 fritz lang film that ignited the genre of science fiction films, complete with 20 minutes of additional footage located and restored only recently.
hud, a film i thought i wouldn't really identify with was actually super relevant. plus, his quick one-liners and easy-going attitude reminded me of an uncle of mine - minus the alcoholism and rages, of course.
and there was recently a charlie chaplin tribute, where i was reminded that i love charlie chaplin, especially now that i am an adult who sometimes deals with the similar troubles he went through. ... poverty.. not so much the pedophilia stuff.
im currently trying a bit of exposure therapy and engaging in various old timey horror films. spooky scaries are not my favorite of film genres, but im trying.
on the plus side, the music is actually quite good. when things get too scary i tend to just close my eyes and listen to the music. baby steps.
my road-trip to los angeles was actually pretty interesting, thanks in large part to eric (he knew where everything was) but also because as a native tri-stater i grew up thinking a city meant buildings and overpopulated areas.
no no no.
los angeles is a large collection of mini towns with occasional clusters of buildings. it seems to be divided into three kinds of arrangements: suburban, commercial and industrial...just repeated hundreds of times over.
well, and freeways. i guess that makes four. driving is a must. i dont think i would make it. i've become quite accustomed to mass transit, no matter how loud or smelly my fellow passengers are.
the area does have some very nice beaches and sunsets.
and then this happened.
disneyland.
i, michael kasian, aka mr. screw-disney-for-its-monopoly-on-childhood-and-misrepresenting-history-and-setting-unattainable-measures-for-love-and-setting-incredibly-inappropriate-gender/racial-roles-on-impressionable-minds, was brought to disneyland.
yep.
and i enjoyed it.
we went on all the best rides (sometimes twice)
and then THIS happened
jack was there.
the ultimate childhood storybook anti-hero. before tim burton got lame and started rehashing good movies into expensive crappy versions and before disney started putting jack's face on every sweatshirt available at any mall store for pseudo-goth transients, jack was the last thing one would expect to come out of a disney studio. he represented what every other protagonist wasn't - lanky, educated, emotional, insecure and without any trace of a typical disney gendered stereotype. he challenged his depression and explored something else, only to realize that it was selfish and unappreciative to not recognize the value of what he already had. an incredible lesson complete with the kind of cast that encourages creativity in young viewers far more than a sidekick talking crab or lamp or raccoon could ever offer.
disney suited up the haunted mansion for the holiday season and i turned into a 6 year old again.
well played, disney.
well played.
we seriously went on a bunch of rides.
this one actually broke down mid hill climb. we were rescued by the kids in country folk costume and got to see the inside of a roller coaster.
surprisingly less magical, i can assure you.
they made it up to us with some free fast pass things so we could just cut wherever. beautiful.
i was actually with some pretty seasoned disneyland experts, so the rate of waiting in line vs. enjoyment was seriously in our favor.
there were characters and mini-parades and castles
and performances and light shows and music and tiki tiki tiki tiki tiki rooms and fireworks going off in all directions (which made the sky look like this)
but the ultimate joy was when that mouse everyone raves about made a quiet appearance in a nearby gazebo. there was barely a line to meet him so i had to get a quick photo - especially when you see what i wore to disneyland.
priceless. just priceless.
mickey took one look a the shirt, recognizing himself at first (as did his handlers looking pleased as punch) but then mickey read the top and put his hands to his mouth, followed by sobbing and tearing.
i made mickey cry. yep. mickey cried.
his handlers soon started making things better, saying things like, "why would you want to destroy florida? i don't get it?" and "well, mickey owns florida, so you can't do that."
in my head i thought, "that's exactly the problem, you morons." which explains my devilishly happy grin in both photos. i came into their turf and confused and angered their highest representative (and handlers). it felt pretty good.
now im back in san francisco and back to the old grind. you know, job hunting. it's rough out there, guys, im not gonna lie. but when things get tough and i can't really see the positive, i think back to a final scene from "modern times" that always lifts me back up
love and loyalty
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