Buffalo Gal

If I wanted to see Harry, Spidey or Shrek (yet again), Anchorman, Garfield, Stepford Wives, King Arthur, The Terminal, Sleepover, The Notebook or the yet-to-be-claimed-classic White Chicks I could simply trundle over to my neighborhood cinema.
You know, the place that started advance sale tickets of "Passion of Christ" two weeks before it's release. The one that brought us "Bowling for Columbine" --weeks after it had won the Oscar.
The latest Moore flick doesn't get that consideration (remember ITS award came from French people). So we're travelling 80 miles to Jacksonville to see a movie today. Somehow it seems the other guys are winning when you have to burn a half a tank of gas to simply view the movie of your choice.
I'm working with a merry band of folks (considered subversives here, considered good neighbors any place else) to rent a theater and bring a copy here, but those wheeels turn slowly.
When my sweet, beautiful... but completely apolitical... youngest daughter said she wanted to see Fahrenheit 9-11, I opted for the quick fix.
There are certain advantages to living within an hour of the state line. In Florida, God lets them buy wine on Sundays and the movie distributors theaters base their choices the good old American way -- on what will sell.
Some will tell you it's the evil Yankee influence.
Pass the popcorn and God bless that America.
Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs

Buffalo Gal Judi Griggs I'm a communications professional, writer, cynic, mother, wife and royal pain. The order depends on the day. I returned to my hometown in November 2004 after a couple of decades of heat and hurricanes. I can polish pristine copy, but not here. This is my morning exercise -- 20-minute takes without a net or spellcheck. It's easier than sit ups for me. No guarantee what it will be for you. Clicking on the subscribe link will send you an email notice when each new entry is posted.
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Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (0) Share on Facebook		2004-07-11 9:50 AM Fahrenheit 9-11 : South Georgia 7-11 If I wanted to see Harry, Spidey or Shrek (yet again), Anchorman, Garfield, Stepford Wives, King Arthur, The Terminal, Sleepover, The Notebook or the yet-to-be-claimed-classic White Chicks I could simply trundle over to my neighborhood cinema. You know, the place that started advance sale tickets of "Passion of Christ" two weeks before it's release. The one that brought us "Bowling for Columbine" --weeks after it had won the Oscar. The latest Moore flick doesn't get that consideration (remember ITS award came from French people). So we're travelling 80 miles to Jacksonville to see a movie today. Somehow it seems the other guys are winning when you have to burn a half a tank of gas to simply view the movie of your choice. I'm working with a merry band of folks (considered subversives here, considered good neighbors any place else) to rent a theater and bring a copy here, but those wheeels turn slowly. When my sweet, beautiful... but completely apolitical... youngest daughter said she wanted to see Fahrenheit 9-11, I opted for the quick fix. There are certain advantages to living within an hour of the state line. In Florida, God lets them buy wine on Sundays and the movie distributors theaters base their choices the good old American way -- on what will sell. Some will tell you it's the evil Yankee influence. Pass the popcorn and God bless that America. Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs Read/Post Comments (0) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top