Before I begin, a couple of notes:
Major major major major thanks to all those who contributed to allow my trip to happen in the first place, from the financial backers, to Koz and family who allowed me to crash there. (Well, sorta. More on that later.)
Like many of my adventures, stuff happened you wouldn’t believe. And even if you would believe it, I’m fairly sure the federal government has a watch-word system out on the interwebs, so I must watch what I say. In other words, only about 65% of the weekend can be safely shared. Perhaps another 15-20% might make a HyperionX column one day, with another 10% conceivably available for beef jerky or pictures of your sister. That last 5%? I take that to God, and probably sooner than I’d like. (By the way, there was a 1970s Alan Arkin movie reference above, and if anyone is cool enough to get it I will personally share my beef jerky.)
Last NOTE: I've just come to the beginning of Saturday in my description and realized that my back simply will not allow me to sit here any longer. I debated for five minutes whether to hold off on this entire column until it was finished, but I wanted to at least show good faith that I was trying. I will attempt desperately to get to a computer over the weekend and finish this column, as well as the movie reviews from that day. Trust me when I tell you that the beginning sucks compared to what happened next.
Hyperion’s Magical Movie Marathon Memory Making Meekend
STARRING
Hyperion as The little boy who could barely hobble, and by the end of the weekend not at all
Koz as the man with the plan
Teela as the woman he loved
Storm as the kid who resulted from that love we spake of earlier
Nobel as Koz’s Weirdo Vegitarian/Ecoterrorist/smug ex-film student friend who refilled my popcorn and generally hit on every woman over sixty (including Helen Mirren)
Carlos as the Loster (rhymes with “coaster“), who, as always, provided more comic relief than you can shake a very large (but not as large as he used to be as the Loster has gone on a diet so he can ride the rides at Disney World this year and not, in his words, “be forced to take that walk of shame when you’re too fat”) half Cuban/half Mexican at
And a cast of thousands as themselves
Our story begins…
I can’t be the only one this happens to, but it seems like every time I have a big day or event planned, with multiple logistical challenges, several different people to coordinate times and places, directions to find, finances to work out and a million and one things that should but probably won’t be packed, every time something like this comes up I have a whole host of totally unrelated shit smack into me, clawing at my legs and torso with the express intent of pulling me down and derailing those aforementioned plans. I think Neil Gaiman put it best in his novel Neverwhere:
“He had noticed that events were cowards: they didn't occur singly, but instead they would run in packs and leap out at him all at once.”
That’s my life.
But before I even get to Saturday, I have to go over my snack list! Friday I managed to go out and brave the harsh conditions to not only get a hair cut (I can’t stand long enough to shave my own head and beard, so I went to a military barber shop where the lady cut my head in so many places that a little boy started crying, thinking I was dead), but also to purchase the sustenance that would see us through this movie marathon memory making magic mesmerizing meekend.
For less money than you can feed one of those poor kids in a month (you know those kids on the commercials, who they guy says haven’t eaten in three days, and you wonder why the hell he doesn’t hand them a sandwich since HE’S STANDING RIGHT THE F**K THERE!), I bought some killer snacks. Husbanding my resources tighter than a…(well, let’s leave that analogy alone), I purchased:
One 21.5 oz. Box of Corn Pops (perhaps the best day-to-day cereal of all time)
One 14.5 oz. Box of Chocolate Lucky Charms (I’ve asked it before and I’ll ask again, why can’t they have a cereal just made of the marshmallows?)
One 14.5 oz. Box of Reese Puffs (think Cocoa Puffs meet Captain Peanut Butter Crunch. Unblievable)
I purchased the dry cereal because I figured it wasn’t messy, had a high sugar content to keep my energy up, and could be eaten out of plastic cups quite easily. This may be the greatest movie snack of all time. The only problem came when the movie I was watching didn’t have a big soundtrack moment so cover the crinkling of the bag, but other than that, huuuuge hit.
Other purchased items:
Dove Bar Candy Bar (milk Chocolate and almonds)
Dried Blueberries (Actually not as good as dried Cranberries; go figure)
Dried Mangoes (I would make love to dried mangoes if it wasn’t illegal)
Large bag of Reese’s Pieces (I have an ongoing argument with my idiot sisters about how to say this candy. They say “Reesey’s Peeseys” and it’s all I can do not to commit Sororities (and yes, that’s a word))
One small bag of Lemonheads
One 8 oz. Bag of Wal-Mart Beefsteak (I easily the most difficult decision of the weekend, I went with the beefsteak over the beef jerky both to liven things up and to increase the chewing requirements and hopefully satiability of the food. It worked out, as Koz bought me the beef jerky on Sunday)
Hard to believe I got all that food so cheap, eh? I was ready to roll.
But first I had to get to sleep, and those aforementioned events snuck up on me, which means by 6:55 a.m. Saturday morning I had gotten a grand total of 135 minutes shut eye. (It sounds more impressive when you do the minutes, but for those of you who live outside Michigan and can therefore do math, you’ll see it wasn’t very much.)
Nonetheless I was excited. I had packed what I hoped I needed and I was ready to roll.
ARRRRRRGH. I must quit here or die in the chair. A little tease for next time: I promise the rest of the column will reveal Hyperion blubbering over an '80s star, nymphomaniac Quakers, and a little discussion I like to call "A boy's first titties." See you soon!
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