I Will Never Let Go

Christmas evening, 1997.  Austintown, Ohio.  With my two best female friends to my right, my two best male friends to my left, and a giant bucket of popcorn on my lap for all of us to share (annoying idea), I waited in eager anticipation for the film of a lifetime:  Titanic.  Little did I know the transformative impact this movie would have on my life.  I suppose that my acutely painful dry eyes throughout the film from lack of blinking in fear of missing a crucial image proved the movie's power over me.  Moreover, though, my gasping and gushing which prompted annoyed nudges to my midsection indicated my overwhelming love of this film.  But most importantly, that night I fell in love with Leonardo DiCaprio.  How much love did I feel for him that fateful Christmas night?  Enough to cause endless sobs leaving me in a heap in the theater's restroom after the film's conclusion.  Enough for me to emphatically repeat, "She said she would never let go.  But she did!  She.  Let.  Go!"  Enough to cause sustained silence on the drive home, even with all of my friends reminding me:  "We knew the ship would sink! Stop sulking!"  My constant questioning of the death of Leo's character continues on, even to this day, fifteen (what?!) years later. Unlike Kate Winslet, I will never let go.  In fact, just this past spring, I organized a weekend-long Titanic 100-year-anniversary tribute in which we participated in a Titanic-themed anniversary dinner at a local restaurant, complete with the music the quartet played on the ship that night and the food the chefs served for dinner.  The next evening we found ourselves in front of the big screen again, and again I smiled from ear-to-ear with Leo on the screen.  Until that Winslet lady let him go. I ask, why did she not hoist him up onto her wooden raft?  So uncool.  At any rate, since that weekend last spring, I have not seen Leo much--until I played The Great Gatsby trailer in class on Monday.  And when his face first appeared, that same old feeling came back, which I can only describe as akin to going over the hill of a roller coaster.  What euphoria!  Have I watched the movie trailer since then?  You bet!  Do I see Leo in my mind's eye when I read the novel?  I sure do!  Have I downloaded the two songs from the soundtrack that the trailer features?  Of course!  Do I feel bad about any of this?  Not at all!  Part of the fun of living lies in embracing our passions.  One of my passions just happens to stem from a movie star whom I may likely meet on an airplane at some point in my life.  However, I will actually call the number he gives me instead of blurting out one random number from it in solitude just to comfort myself.

The Great Gatsby opens in theaters on May 10, 2013.
My "restlessness approaches hysteria."

 

Dusting off the Crystal Ball

To serve as the official guide to your current traits and predictions for your futures, I present you with "What Your Favorite Character in 'New Boy' Says About You."  If you chose Joseph, congratulate yourself on your intelligence, reserved nature, and compassion for others.  I predict that as an outsider to most cliques in college, you will successfully assimilate with troublemakers.  Most likely, this will land you in jail.  If you chose Miss, You admire weak authority figures, but treasure compassion.  You also find yourself increasingly using the word "Now."  I predict you will become a teacher of rambunctious children who rudely parrot the one word you turn to when in an anxious, panicked state.  This one word will serve as the only safeguard you can find to keep yourself from beating them.  If you chose Seth Quinn, Math Masters eludes you.  You scorn authority and often hang your head in shame because of your failures.  Prediction: unfavorable.  You better brush up on your study skills now before you fail out of college!  If you chose Christian Kelly, you enjoy ironic first names and rubbing snot onto unsuspecting victims.  Prediction: unfavorable.  While you may garner popularity from your unsavory antics, the cops will not find you humorous.  Jail time awaits!  If you chose Hazel O'Hara, you love intelligent, precocious, slightly bossy, sycophants.  Since your choice aligns with mine, I see much fame, fortune, and happiness in your future.  Good for you, smarty pants!  If you chose Pamela, you like sitting next to big girls and maps.  Also, you call yourself Kyle.  I predict that one day you will publish the how-to book: Cartography for Big-Boned Ladies.  If you chose Someone, you like the obscure, the ambiguous, the mysterious unsung hero.  I predict you will become the hero of the class when you make us a batch of cupcakes.  Our public praise of you will launch an endorsement for your new line of cupcakes: Fungcakes!

Bartering with Burglars

Ever since we discussed "The Second Bakery Attack" by Haruki Murakami, I find myself thinking about the McDonald's workers in the story.  You might remember them as the three people who do nothing.  I, however, remember them as three people who diligently seek to follow rules---especially the store manager, who at first explains the corporate policy of not closing a store before the official closing time.  He then pleads for the narrator and his cat burglar wife to take some money and go elsewhere with their hungry selves (7-8).  Maybe some readers would want more than a groveling manager and two dutiful underlings.  Maybe, perhaps, a stealthy manager who calls the police by pressing a secret button under the counter, or maybe an aggressive gun-toting manager who initiates the ultimate shoot down seems more appealing.  However, after reading "14 Ways to Get Fired from McDonald's" on Business Insider's website, the prospect of these choices from a rule-abiding McDonald's manager seem less likely than ever to yield positive results for him.  Take, for instance, Clifton Brown, a McDonald's employee from Indiana.  After an armed woman stole from the cash register, he shot at her as she ran away.  McDonald's fired him due to their no-gun policy.  In this case, he should have just given over the money, let the woman run away, and called the police.  No matter your views on gun control laws, the law of McDonald's trumps all.  That partially explains why the manager in Murakami's story shows so much fear in the face of disobeying McDonald's laws.  He would rather barter with burglars than endure unemployment.  At any rate, I notice that every time I drive by a McDonald's, I think about these people from Murakami's story.  I think about how hungry they feel, how the wife shows herself as a master thief, and how afraid the manager behaves; but mostly, I think about how disgusting the prospect of eating THIRTY Big Macs seems. 

Sidenote:  You should check out the aforementioned article.  I think you would find it interesting!