Today as I sat, as curled up as my burgeoning belly would allow, in my favorite seat in my favorite movie theater, I got to thinking about how some things stay the same, no matter what, while other things change so drastically.
Same: I love to see movies in the theater.
Different: We mostly see afternoon shows while my folks watch Cleo and to avoid unruly teenagers that I want to bludgeon or publicly embarass.
Same: I love to munch something during the movie.
Different: It used to be Jelly Belly jelly beans or Sour Patch Kids. Now it's carrot sticks, an apple, and a bottle of Emergen-C. I have to carry a bigger purse.
Same: I love previews.
Different: When the previews suck, I laugh at them and make catty remarks with Craig. Like today-- there was this awesome and engrossing preview by the director of Pan's Labyrinth, but it turned out to be Hellboy 2: Electric Bugaloo, so we both groaned loudly and started harassing it.
And here's another constant: Indiana Jones still rocks! That movie was a big, splashy, delicious blockbuster full of cliches, gags, tag lines, and a 65 year old man doing things that my husband *and* his trainer couldn't do on 2 gallons of Red Bull. Spoiler alert for the rest of the bloggity: They actually put him in a lead-lined refridgerator, threw an atomic bomb on him, tossed his fridge a bazillion miles into the air and across the desert, got him out of the self-locking death-bin, hosed him off with White-Out, and he kept on kicking ass.
The movie had every single experience an Indiana Jones movie should have: Russians, aliens, skulls, army ants, crazed natives, blow-guns, pythons, quicksand, double-crossers, whippings, hats lost and found, machine gun chases, a quick wave by the Ark of the Covenant, a fight between the Preps and the Greasers, a flying saucer, waterfalls, boat-cars, cryptic letters, crazy people, mind control, long lost sons, feisty old ladies, nearly falling off mountains. EVERYTHING. Except chase scenes involving planes and horses, but, honestly, they only had 2 hours.
So, in conclusion, do yourself a favor. Go see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull at 1pm on a Saturday. Balance the overly-fake-buttered popcorn and Reese's Pieces with a cup of baby carrots and a bottle of Emergen-C while you're doubled up in your seat, trying like hell not to pee yourself or miss one moment of the movie, smiling like an idiot when Harrison Ford actually crosses genres and tells us he has "a bad feeling about this".
You won't regret it.