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Marty’s Holy Vigil

14 Dec


‘Member when John Lennon said The Beatles were more popular than Jesus?  That’s the same formula to apply towards Marty’s excitement level for The Hobbit tickets burning a hole in her pocket, versus her Christmas Eve visit from Santa Claus.

…Both are pretty awesome, but one keeps making her tear up and bounce on the sofa seats, staying up all night watching America’s Top Model because she actually, physically, is too excited to close her eyes and try to sleep.

We are going to the seven-something showing.

…And she is waiting that long, out of respect for me…and cuz of a bet.

I am helping her win, by attending this new relaunch of an already sworn-to-hate series (due to my previous experiences of it, as told here), and she, in turn, gave up the midnight showing, so I’m not forced to try and keep awake PLUS do it at four A.M.  We WILL, however, be standing in line from 5 until “whenever,” just so we can pick out the best seats. We chose the theatre with barcaloungers. It’ll be in 3D. A single ticket cost was like $18.

…Out of respect for her, I have taken the prep for this whole thing very seriously. I’ve had Q&A sessions with Ma on “who the hell so-and-so” is and why “la-de-da” matters. I look at all the trailers and supplemental materials they YouTube to me, I’ve seen History Channel documentaries on the sources that Tolkien used to come up with all of it…I’ve participate in games…I’ve even read The Book.

…This all culminated yesterday, in a plug-and-play Hobbit-naming generator tagged on my FB page. I got: Pansy Hamwich of Buckleberry Fern. And when a friend got Prisca Hamwich of Buckleberry Fern, here was my reply:

“…at least with a name like the Ham-sisters we obviously ride on the Tookish wild side…clearly involving gross amounts of mead and — oh @#$%. I’ve been infected. I actually know what all that meeeeeeeans. Noooooooooooooo!”

…So it’s official.

It’s allll fuckin’ over for me.

I know who these people (or thingsies) are, where they came from, and what their traits as races are. I admit: in the last stand of Thorin on the Mountain, I was all butt-hurt and pissed for the Wood Elves, Humans and Bilbo for being treated so crappily. Yes, I laughed at the stupid cave tolls. Fine, I was kinda bummed when those three characters died.

…but this DOES NOT mean I am a clean-cut convert!

I ain’t drunk of the Kool-aid for that whole…LOTR fiasco. It ruined too many Christmases for me. Forgiveness shall not be granted, that.

…And I STILL say they are climbing a lot of fucking hills…AGAIN…for beings in the CONSTANT company of a WIZARD.

(don’t tell me he can’t just whip up some two-second spell and just teleport them there. And if he can’t, he sorta sucks at his job, you guys.)

…And I don’t for the life of me see why the first installment of THREE – count them: THREE movies just for this ONE book – needs to be TWO HOURS and FORTY MINUTES LONG.

…But at least now, I will know what in the hell they are talking about while throwing words like “Wargs,” “Elrond,” “Mirkwood,” “Arkenstone,” and “The Battle of the Five Armies” around.

It doesn’t mean I “like” it or anything.

It just means I am prepared. And at least if a I fall asleep, when I wake up: I’ll know where we are in the scheme of things.


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