When my wife and I go a movie, it’s usually a
true blockbuster. After several months
anticipation, we went to see “The Lone Ranger” last night. I had read no reviews but felt this was going
to be the movie of the year. “Let’s get
there early, honey, since I don’t want to fight the mob and sit on the front
row, or even worse miss the seven o’clock showing.”
We arrived at the parking lot fifteen minutes
early, still later than I had wished.
Amazingly, there were only three other cars in the theater lot. I wondered if there had been a power outage
from the thunderstorms in the area. We
paid for our tickets, senior discount duly given, and proceeded to our
theater. Preparing for the two hour and
twenty minute film, I had stuffed the pockets of my cargo pants with granola
bars, crackers, and some candies (who can afford concession prices on a retiree’s
budget?). I guess that’s why I felt my cargo pants
slipping downward, requiring me to stop and ponder the situation. Meanwhile, my wife talked the concessionaire
into two, four ounce complementary waters while I carefully cinched in my belt
to correct the cargo pant malfunction.
For ten minutes we sat alone in the theater
awaiting the movie of the year. Soon we
were joined by three other couples, all who appeared our age or even old enough
to remember The Lone Ranger’s 1932 radio debut.
I suppose you can tell that a movie is really
long, or the viewers really old, when
fifty percent of the audience have to leave for a bathroom break during the
viewing. I’m not saying which of us had
to make the trek to the bathroom, but my wife did fill me in on the part I
missed: “,…three train wrecks, a mine
explosion, and a cannibalistic scene of some kind.” But that’s o.k. What I did not want to miss was the Lone
Ranger on Silver shouting “Hi-YO Silver Away!” as the horse reared up. It finally happened about four or five hours
into the film (O.K. it just seemed like that). Then came the only memorable line of the movie
as Tonto exhorts his masked companion (Spoiler alert): “Don’t ever say that again!”
Betsy and I laughed at ourselves. O.K., actually my wife laughed at me. But in the midst of a miserable movie, we had
a pretty good time. We remembered times
past, we cringed at the horror scenes, we marveled at the animation, we
chuckled at the sight of four baby boomer couples immersed in the nostalgia of
the Lone Ranger altered by the age of computer technology, and we celebrated
the fact that we didn’t have to sit on the front row to watch the film.
This morning I picked up the News and
Observer to read a review entitled:
“Ranger Flop Likely to Make Disney More Cautious.” I wished I had read
the review before going to the movie, but then I would have missed the great
evening we spent together laughing and conversing while waiting to hear the
Lone Ranger shout “Hi-YO Silver Away”!
Oh no!
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