I've thought on occasion about sharing some of my booth/projectionist memories, but many of them are a bit too short to really share anywhere other than in brief, blog form. So here goes one.
One year, the movie theater where I worked decided to run a series of midnight movies in order to help get some extra business during the slower, winter and early spring months. From the action of "Raiders of the Lost Ark" to Goth cult classic "The Crow," we had a decent variety. One of the films we got was Terminator 2: Judgement Day. As one of the more experienced projectionists at the theater, I was given the task of not only building up the movie, but of previewing it to make sure that the build had gone okay.
Oh, not sure what a build is? Well, let me give you a quick crash course. Basically, the films would come shipped to the theater in a couple of large, metal canisters, each canister held a few reels. Each reel would have a number on it that would designate what number in the sequence that it was. The reels would go in succession from one to what ever the final number was (The biggest one I saw was for Gods and Generals at a whopping 13 reels, but that's another story.) It was the projectionists' job to take out the film reels, examine them to insure they were building the film in the correct order, then use a series of splicing devices and "build tables" to construct the film. This is a bit simplified, but, it will do. The main point is that as a projectionist, I basically had to be there from start to finish to make sure that the film was constructed correctly. This is much harder to do the older the film, as the stock changed over the years, and the older the film, the more likely that the film would be so brittle from age that it would snap easily. A usual build would take maybe 30 minutes to an hour depending on film size. I was extra careful with Terminator 2, not just out of respect for the film, but because of how hard it was to build with any decent kind of speed so that the film wouldn't break in my hands.
A typical build night would mean constructing the movies Thursday day and early evening, then preview/verifying the movie that night to make sure you didn't screw up and post things upside down and backwards.
That evening, I had settled in around a fairly decent midnight hour, fairly early actually, to watch Terminator 2, big screen style. All was going well, nothing better than getting paid to watch an Arnie flick--unless it was Junior, my heart goes out to those projectionists who had to verify that one. Anyways, about a half an hour into it, a couple of managers walk in to watch the show. Still no biggie, I was looking forward to watching this one on my own, but it wasn't a problem. But then disaster struck.
The T-1000 appeared on screen, staring coldly and dispassionately at some unseen thing as he walked robotically away from the screen--backwards and upside down. Now, that sort of thing can totally be hillarious--for about 3 seconds. Then, as a projectionist, you realize that the one who has to fix it is you. Then about 2 seconds after that you realize that there is no really quick fix, and you will be there for another half an hour just to undo the problem. At least that is how it should have happened. However, what did happen kept me there until nearly four in the morning.
The two managers who came in were dating, so the guy manager, in what I can only assume was some oddball attempt to try to impress the gal, came up to the booth area to "help" me. Already I was tired and frustrated that I had made such an elementary mistake, but they do happen. I was ready to take that in stride and learn my lesson in humility. I was even ready to let the guy pretend that he had a clue so that he could look informed. (Not to mention he was my boss at the time.) An easy solution to the problem, though not necessarily quick, would have been to pull out the offending reel, take it to the build up tables, get it oriented correctly, then bring it back to the projector. I would have meant another 20 to 30 minutes of work, but oh well. The guy, in an attempt to "approach it from a new angle" decided to pull out the reel and completely unravel it from one end of the projection area to the next and feed it slowly into the projector so that it corrected. Now I already mentioned that the film is somewhat brittle when it gets to be a bit old. But what I haven't mentioned is the fact that if you were to take a typical film and unravel it, it would reach up to a mile in length. Each reel has several hundred feet of film on it.
As the guy merrily undid the film, despite my protests that, besides possibly damaging the film, it would make us have to stay there until almost next morning, I couldn't help but stand there and think to myself, "This sort of thing is the exact reason why I'm an insomniac."
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
notes
I've come to the conclusion that watching just one episode of the t.v. show "Hoarders" is enough to make a person ready to throw out priceless family heirlooms just to make sure that they don't turn into a hoarder. Now, I'm not trying to sound all weird and judgemental, nor do I some how think that this is an idication of "Typical American Culture." What I do seem is people trying to fill the void in their lives with stuff, sooooooo much stuff. At least that is how I thought of it at first. Then there was this one guy who said something about having a profound level of memory attachment to the things he had. That took me aback. I have a high level of memory as well, and I reckognize that it keeps me from tossing out junk at times.
Now, I'm hardly a hoarder, I don't have whole rooms filled with junk piled to the ceiling. However, I definetly have a couple of closets that have various papers and knick knacks sitting about collecting "memorable" layers of dust and dead bugs. Seriously, I don't have a need for horror movies or slasher flicks. I just have to do an hour of cleaning out old stuff and I get the full on heebie-jeebies. Nothing will make a body convulse quite as much as finding out that the oddly shaped, crumbly things were, in fact spider legs. Egads, it makes me shiver just to think of it even now. Anywho, that leads me to my main point.
So, I was cleaning out the second bedroom of out apartment today, and I came across (huh, I like how I just "happened" to find stuff. Gotta keep myself more honest) I finally tackled (ah, that sounds better) the book shelf full of college papers and books. I thought that it would be a fairly easy affair, as I really didn't like a few of those core classes that I had to take, and I am almost certain that at one point I had planned some sort of epic bonfire with my class notes. Oddly enough though, I found myself strangely reluctant to do so, and I have no idea why. I mean, I can't even begin to tell you (if you're out there actualy reading this) how often I was frustrated at my Cross-Cultural Communications class. I have never taken a class that felt like a bigger waste of time. I had to take it because of the requirements of my degree. I know that there were points where I looked forward to trashing the notes the moment that the class was over for good. However, here I sit, nearly three years from my college graduation, and I'm struggling to put them into the trash where they belong.
I think a part of it is that I had hoped to do something more epic with them. I know that when I was in high school, me and several of my friends joked about holding a bonfire with our European A.P. notes as the the kindling. Funny, because I think those are somewhere in storage at my folks place. In any case, here I am now, and I think that part the reluctance to toss those notes, among otherss, is that I feel they represent a history, a documentation of the fact that I sat through that class, learned the material, and scored a decent grade. I almost feel like I would be getting rid of a bit of me to toss it aside, yet the funny thing is that some of those classes never really were me. They never really expanded my thought process, grew me as a person, or added to my overall knowledge in a meaningfull way. I'm not saying this to be arrogant. I had plenty of, "Oh Wow" moments while in several of my Old English and History of Language classes. Just that I never felt like I was learning in the type of class that the "Cultural" class was. It always seemed like a waste of time. It still does.
I guess that the other reason I can't just toss some of those notes is that mingled among the bordem doodles and actual class notes are fragments of my story that I'm writing. Stuff that I had nearly forgotten. And I guess that is what really makes those notes valuable to me. Not what the class covered, but what I spent my time doing in that class.
Now, I'm hardly a hoarder, I don't have whole rooms filled with junk piled to the ceiling. However, I definetly have a couple of closets that have various papers and knick knacks sitting about collecting "memorable" layers of dust and dead bugs. Seriously, I don't have a need for horror movies or slasher flicks. I just have to do an hour of cleaning out old stuff and I get the full on heebie-jeebies. Nothing will make a body convulse quite as much as finding out that the oddly shaped, crumbly things were, in fact spider legs. Egads, it makes me shiver just to think of it even now. Anywho, that leads me to my main point.
So, I was cleaning out the second bedroom of out apartment today, and I came across (huh, I like how I just "happened" to find stuff. Gotta keep myself more honest) I finally tackled (ah, that sounds better) the book shelf full of college papers and books. I thought that it would be a fairly easy affair, as I really didn't like a few of those core classes that I had to take, and I am almost certain that at one point I had planned some sort of epic bonfire with my class notes. Oddly enough though, I found myself strangely reluctant to do so, and I have no idea why. I mean, I can't even begin to tell you (if you're out there actualy reading this) how often I was frustrated at my Cross-Cultural Communications class. I have never taken a class that felt like a bigger waste of time. I had to take it because of the requirements of my degree. I know that there were points where I looked forward to trashing the notes the moment that the class was over for good. However, here I sit, nearly three years from my college graduation, and I'm struggling to put them into the trash where they belong.
I think a part of it is that I had hoped to do something more epic with them. I know that when I was in high school, me and several of my friends joked about holding a bonfire with our European A.P. notes as the the kindling. Funny, because I think those are somewhere in storage at my folks place. In any case, here I am now, and I think that part the reluctance to toss those notes, among otherss, is that I feel they represent a history, a documentation of the fact that I sat through that class, learned the material, and scored a decent grade. I almost feel like I would be getting rid of a bit of me to toss it aside, yet the funny thing is that some of those classes never really were me. They never really expanded my thought process, grew me as a person, or added to my overall knowledge in a meaningfull way. I'm not saying this to be arrogant. I had plenty of, "Oh Wow" moments while in several of my Old English and History of Language classes. Just that I never felt like I was learning in the type of class that the "Cultural" class was. It always seemed like a waste of time. It still does.
I guess that the other reason I can't just toss some of those notes is that mingled among the bordem doodles and actual class notes are fragments of my story that I'm writing. Stuff that I had nearly forgotten. And I guess that is what really makes those notes valuable to me. Not what the class covered, but what I spent my time doing in that class.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Hollywood Hates My Childhood: Part 1
So, for a while now, I've thought about writing a series of essays on the ever growing problem of Hollywood ruining things from my childhood. From video games, to toys, to cartoons, to even board games (see: Battleship: the Movie) it seems now there is increasingly less and less of my childhood to for people to ruin by making a terrible movie from them. What really worries me is not so much that people in charge of such decisions will continue to do so, but rather, that they are narrowing the field.
I will likely, as this little mini-series unfolds, go through a few examples of movies where Hollywood bungled a potential money maker by putting their own idiotic spin on it. I know that I might be going out on a limb here, but there has to have been more potential to a Super Mario Bros. movie then Dennis Hopper chewing scenery while that guy from Who Framed Roger Rabbit and John Leguizimomo (sp?) run around looking somewhere between befuddled and glad just to be working on a big Hollywood movie. No, I'm not saying that there was the room for anything than a goofy romp, but that doesn't mean you can't do it with a bit of intelligence, does it? I hope I don't sound pretentious here, it just seems like it was a waste of franchise material when you take a world-wide recognizable icon like Mario, and flush the idea completely down the toilet. Actually it's worse than that, it's like Hollywood takes great money makers and purposefully ruins them. At least that's what I think has to be going on. Doesn't it?
Furthermore, they take stuff from my childhood, and even when it makes money, they make large portions of it so stupid, so raunchy, so filled with sucker punches to my beliefs, that I regret the times that I see them. Yeesh. Is it that hard not to make a movie and say, "You know what this movie really needs? It needs a scene where a giant fighting robot pees on some guy." What's worse, is that some of the so-called valuable writers that make up the Hollwood writing industry write now are complicite in it. They must be sitting there thinking, "Should it be Optimus or Bumble Bee that does the peeing?" Or the endless stream of fart jokes. Can we let up on those too? That's probably a whole article in itself. People use to hold themselves to a higher standard and didn't have this elitist attitude of "Well, the masses like that stuff." Really? Did you go out and poll people on this? I would have loved to have participated in that survey.
Poller: "So, how do you feel about robot urination?"
Me: "What? I don't think I get the question."
Poller: "You know, say we were making a movie about gigantic robots that fight each other, which may or may not be based on some part of your unspoiled youth. Who would you prefer to see peeing, the leader or the heroic, witty side kick?"
Me: "Wha--no! Just no to all the peeing, why would that even, I just--"
Poller: "I'm sorry sir, but 'no' isn't an option. It would negate the follow up question about how big and long the stream should be."
Me: now openly weeping "why...Why...WHYYYYYYY!"
See, I don't necessarily believe that movies based on things from my childhood need to be filled with crude humor, sex jokes, and drug references. If I went to see a movie that's based on something from my childhood, it likely didn't have those things. If something like the cartoon Transformers had held even a fraction of the things that the movies did, my parents would not only have forbid me from watching the show, but would have punished me for watching it.
What I'm trying to get at is that even when there is proven, popular material, Hollywood finds a way to make it awful. Why is this did this have a clear start? I don't know off the top of my head, but I'm willing to give it look. Next time, I'll be looking at a few big successes, big flops, and "what could have been" that were based on bits from my childhood. I'll be trying to point out what I think were the reasons for the failure of the films, even if they were big money makers at the box office.
Thanks for reading.
I will likely, as this little mini-series unfolds, go through a few examples of movies where Hollywood bungled a potential money maker by putting their own idiotic spin on it. I know that I might be going out on a limb here, but there has to have been more potential to a Super Mario Bros. movie then Dennis Hopper chewing scenery while that guy from Who Framed Roger Rabbit and John Leguizimomo (sp?) run around looking somewhere between befuddled and glad just to be working on a big Hollywood movie. No, I'm not saying that there was the room for anything than a goofy romp, but that doesn't mean you can't do it with a bit of intelligence, does it? I hope I don't sound pretentious here, it just seems like it was a waste of franchise material when you take a world-wide recognizable icon like Mario, and flush the idea completely down the toilet. Actually it's worse than that, it's like Hollywood takes great money makers and purposefully ruins them. At least that's what I think has to be going on. Doesn't it?
Furthermore, they take stuff from my childhood, and even when it makes money, they make large portions of it so stupid, so raunchy, so filled with sucker punches to my beliefs, that I regret the times that I see them. Yeesh. Is it that hard not to make a movie and say, "You know what this movie really needs? It needs a scene where a giant fighting robot pees on some guy." What's worse, is that some of the so-called valuable writers that make up the Hollwood writing industry write now are complicite in it. They must be sitting there thinking, "Should it be Optimus or Bumble Bee that does the peeing?" Or the endless stream of fart jokes. Can we let up on those too? That's probably a whole article in itself. People use to hold themselves to a higher standard and didn't have this elitist attitude of "Well, the masses like that stuff." Really? Did you go out and poll people on this? I would have loved to have participated in that survey.
Poller: "So, how do you feel about robot urination?"
Me: "What? I don't think I get the question."
Poller: "You know, say we were making a movie about gigantic robots that fight each other, which may or may not be based on some part of your unspoiled youth. Who would you prefer to see peeing, the leader or the heroic, witty side kick?"
Me: "Wha--no! Just no to all the peeing, why would that even, I just--"
Poller: "I'm sorry sir, but 'no' isn't an option. It would negate the follow up question about how big and long the stream should be."
Me: now openly weeping "why...Why...WHYYYYYYY!"
See, I don't necessarily believe that movies based on things from my childhood need to be filled with crude humor, sex jokes, and drug references. If I went to see a movie that's based on something from my childhood, it likely didn't have those things. If something like the cartoon Transformers had held even a fraction of the things that the movies did, my parents would not only have forbid me from watching the show, but would have punished me for watching it.
What I'm trying to get at is that even when there is proven, popular material, Hollywood finds a way to make it awful. Why is this did this have a clear start? I don't know off the top of my head, but I'm willing to give it look. Next time, I'll be looking at a few big successes, big flops, and "what could have been" that were based on bits from my childhood. I'll be trying to point out what I think were the reasons for the failure of the films, even if they were big money makers at the box office.
Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Would I move?
So, I had this conversation the other day with person who works for a website that I frequent.
I'd like to think that I have a fairly good online "relationship" with this company, and I love the stuff that they do and the customer service that they offer. I've not only purchased many things from them over the past few years, but I've also gotten a nice amount of positive and critical feedback from the community at large. Heck, I've even joked with my wife that I might actually really enjoy working for them. Here's the thing though, I'd have to move in order to work for them.
Now, I have to say, that I really, really don't like the way my current retail job is going. Oh sure, it pays the bill and the health insurance is bar none absolutely great, it's just that I hate every minute of it. The customers can go from some of the politest people in the world to absolutely nasty jerks who will make it a point to make you feel absolutely miserable. Heck, I remember one time where this guy I was helping just sat there for several minutes balling me out on what a stupid, wretched person until he could see that I was on the verge of tears. (In fact, I did have a manager step in and get me out so I could regain a bit of composure.) Point is, I don't like how it goes there, some of the people I work with are great and I wouldn't mind hanging with them after work, but that doesn't make me feel compelled to stay there. So naturally, I've been on a job search of late.
It was never my plan to stay at my current job forever. I have an English lit degree, and I think it would be great to teach some day at a private school. However, I keep reweighing my options on that. Do I really want to give my time and energy into an industry that, of late, seems to facilitate a hateful attitude to the most basic and intrinsic of my values? Already, as I was going throught the teaching program at my college, it felt as if the whole attitude that pervaded the teaching department was narcassim and cynicism. "If only everyone in the world thought like me, the world would be a better place," and such. And by golly woe be unto those who disagree.
Anyways, school stuff is likely another post entirely. The point I was trying to get at was, would I move? I don't know honestly. If I were blessed and able to get a job at the company in question, it would mean leaving my family, friends, and church behind in favor of the opportunity. My wife and I could sure use this blessing after years of dealing with jobs that don't use our training and my own on going medical issues (that's for another post or two as well). But will what I gain be better than what I leave behind? Will it be worth the initial heartache that I will get to start with? I wish that I knew the future, or at least what it would hold for me if I were to go with either option. Not saying that the job would be a sure thing though. But, it does leave me wondering something. Would I move away from all that is comfortable right now to improve my life?
Part of what keeps me sane right now is the support I get from family, friends, and church. A move for any job would mean leaving that all behind for a world of uncertainties. Am I ready to do that? I don't know yet. I keep thinking about it, but definetly need to spend more time in prayer as well. I hope God let's me know where to go in the future, because I sure as heck don't trust myself to make this call.
I'd like to think that I have a fairly good online "relationship" with this company, and I love the stuff that they do and the customer service that they offer. I've not only purchased many things from them over the past few years, but I've also gotten a nice amount of positive and critical feedback from the community at large. Heck, I've even joked with my wife that I might actually really enjoy working for them. Here's the thing though, I'd have to move in order to work for them.
Now, I have to say, that I really, really don't like the way my current retail job is going. Oh sure, it pays the bill and the health insurance is bar none absolutely great, it's just that I hate every minute of it. The customers can go from some of the politest people in the world to absolutely nasty jerks who will make it a point to make you feel absolutely miserable. Heck, I remember one time where this guy I was helping just sat there for several minutes balling me out on what a stupid, wretched person until he could see that I was on the verge of tears. (In fact, I did have a manager step in and get me out so I could regain a bit of composure.) Point is, I don't like how it goes there, some of the people I work with are great and I wouldn't mind hanging with them after work, but that doesn't make me feel compelled to stay there. So naturally, I've been on a job search of late.
It was never my plan to stay at my current job forever. I have an English lit degree, and I think it would be great to teach some day at a private school. However, I keep reweighing my options on that. Do I really want to give my time and energy into an industry that, of late, seems to facilitate a hateful attitude to the most basic and intrinsic of my values? Already, as I was going throught the teaching program at my college, it felt as if the whole attitude that pervaded the teaching department was narcassim and cynicism. "If only everyone in the world thought like me, the world would be a better place," and such. And by golly woe be unto those who disagree.
Anyways, school stuff is likely another post entirely. The point I was trying to get at was, would I move? I don't know honestly. If I were blessed and able to get a job at the company in question, it would mean leaving my family, friends, and church behind in favor of the opportunity. My wife and I could sure use this blessing after years of dealing with jobs that don't use our training and my own on going medical issues (that's for another post or two as well). But will what I gain be better than what I leave behind? Will it be worth the initial heartache that I will get to start with? I wish that I knew the future, or at least what it would hold for me if I were to go with either option. Not saying that the job would be a sure thing though. But, it does leave me wondering something. Would I move away from all that is comfortable right now to improve my life?
Part of what keeps me sane right now is the support I get from family, friends, and church. A move for any job would mean leaving that all behind for a world of uncertainties. Am I ready to do that? I don't know yet. I keep thinking about it, but definetly need to spend more time in prayer as well. I hope God let's me know where to go in the future, because I sure as heck don't trust myself to make this call.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Ten Minutes a Day
So, for a few years now, to my shame, the second bedroom of my apartment has just been a storage facility.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
I don't like making to do lists.
I'm so not one of those type "A" personalities. Not that I'm a lazy slob or that I'm not a hard worker or dedicate myself to a task or that I try to finish things that I start. I just really, really hate making lists for what I plan on doing for the day. I feel like it goes against every part of who I am.
Why should I make an attempt to plan out every single aspect of my day when the slightest thing could throw off a schedule? Not to say that it's not good to have a semblence of a plan in mind, just that I don't want to end up as a hyper-controlling person. I've felt the pressure of trying to get things done on time and felt disorganized when I have something that is due or something that needs to be done in a certain order, but I'm more one of those people who has a cluttered desk and knows where it all is types.
I've seen people I know personally act is if the whole day is a wash if one thing goes wrong, something is done out of order, or something doesn't go according to how they expect people to act.
That said, I find myself having to do minor list making in order to get things done lately. I hate it. A lot. There are people who say, "Doesn't it feel better to get things crossed off your list for the day? Don't you feel accomplished?" To that I say, "But I feel even better when I take that little list and throw it away." I know in some cases I wouldn't have gotten through college if I hadn't buckled down and done a bit of organizing, but I have to say, those were some of the most stressful days I've ever had. Not just because of the copious amounts of work I had to do in order to get everything done, but rather I tried to set a pace for myself that I thought was what was the "responsible thing" to do. Again, not that I shirk at the notion of responsibility, but why should I do what I think of as what other people consider responsible? What's the point in going to extreme lengths to please a person who will never know what you did in the first place? Ultimately, some of them don't care how you did it, just that you did it, period.
Now, that is, of course a broad generalization. For example, if my last minute idea to pay the bills was to rob a bank, a whole heckuva a lot of people would care how I went about things. The big things are not really what I'm rambling about here.
What am I saying then?
I hate list making! Didn't I say that in the title??? Geez...
Why should I make an attempt to plan out every single aspect of my day when the slightest thing could throw off a schedule? Not to say that it's not good to have a semblence of a plan in mind, just that I don't want to end up as a hyper-controlling person. I've felt the pressure of trying to get things done on time and felt disorganized when I have something that is due or something that needs to be done in a certain order, but I'm more one of those people who has a cluttered desk and knows where it all is types.
I've seen people I know personally act is if the whole day is a wash if one thing goes wrong, something is done out of order, or something doesn't go according to how they expect people to act.
That said, I find myself having to do minor list making in order to get things done lately. I hate it. A lot. There are people who say, "Doesn't it feel better to get things crossed off your list for the day? Don't you feel accomplished?" To that I say, "But I feel even better when I take that little list and throw it away." I know in some cases I wouldn't have gotten through college if I hadn't buckled down and done a bit of organizing, but I have to say, those were some of the most stressful days I've ever had. Not just because of the copious amounts of work I had to do in order to get everything done, but rather I tried to set a pace for myself that I thought was what was the "responsible thing" to do. Again, not that I shirk at the notion of responsibility, but why should I do what I think of as what other people consider responsible? What's the point in going to extreme lengths to please a person who will never know what you did in the first place? Ultimately, some of them don't care how you did it, just that you did it, period.
Now, that is, of course a broad generalization. For example, if my last minute idea to pay the bills was to rob a bank, a whole heckuva a lot of people would care how I went about things. The big things are not really what I'm rambling about here.
What am I saying then?
I hate list making! Didn't I say that in the title??? Geez...
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