The Line

                This week was the opening of The Avengers which I will say with all honestly caused me to need new pants in more ways than one. As is a tradition of sorts I attended the midnight showing of Avengers with my friends. But this is not just a midnight showing this is getting together several hours in advanced to be a part of what I like to call The Line.

The Line is a mixture of equal parts super nerd and lack of wanting to or needing to be at work. I being of both minds of course was there to take the first spot in line and watch as it grew like a squished up straw you add soda too to see it unfold into something all together completely different. As in the past you will find The Line to bring together people who want to see the movie and know what it is like to be a part of something larger then themselves. This ideology is something that has been around for a period of time that I believe started with the release of the Star Wars Trilogy back in the late 70’s. I myself waited in line not only to get a ticket for some of the showings when it was re-released but also to be one of the first in to get the seats that would make the whole experience like crack to the dying hobo or equally dying rich guy that forgot his wallet in his limo. The effect of the group that gathers is magic in its own way as you can clearly pick out those that are fans and those that are just there to see the movie. The fan is the person or people that are there either dressed in costume, wearing a t-shirt sporting a print from the movie, and/or will not stop talking about the key features of the upcoming movie that they hope are true to the relevant media it is based on.  The other sides of the fence are the people that just want to see the movie these people are great as well but you can tell who they are by their lack of yelling out corrections to other people’s conversations and most likely spend the bulk of their time on their phones/ game systems.

I if you have not guessed I am one of the fans a title I am proud of and wore with great pride as I sat for close to eight hours waiting for the movie to start. As I sat there I could not help but to let my eyes and ears roam across the line as she built to be something grand. As I watched I could see the fans trudging in with their shirts, their costumes, or their shear knowledge on the subject matter. As well I could see the other group coming in to be a part of the madness but be able to walk away from it knowing they could never be that addicted to something. My ears picking up on conversations which I then jumped into, my eyes watching as the one gentleman that choose to be the Hulk looked more like Lance Armstrong after eating bad shellfish but I am sure would rage the hell out of a bike race then go on to become the King of France because we know France would just roll over like poop in a pool. The sights and the sounds adding to the experience of it all truly makes one feel at home standing for hours amongst people called to a quickening of sorts. It is this feeling that I love and hold on too even after the movie is over, which too many people got up from before it was really over, for shame. The feeling of home gathered so richly from something like a midnight showing is something I feel we all need to find in our day to day lives. It can bring us back to childhood and remind us to not take the world or ourselves so seriously as we all read the free comic books we were handed, or in some cases try to keep the large beach balls from hitting the ground.

As the crowds departed dispersing into the night like ghosts finally freed from their hallowed graves by the shrinking of the setting sun I laughed again at the wonder of it all and knew that even as this movie ended there were other pockets of togetherness in places like mine which would carry the feeling on till morning and beyond. As a note I also laughed as I watched Thor and Iron Man ride off into the night on their motorcycles. So I say to all of you, get in line and find your own group of happy people arguing which Avenger or whatever was best. Fling tiny lizards across the theater or even watch in amazement as Han Solo picks up a light saber and manages to beat Vader in a round robin duel set up at the front of the theater. Though I caution you Twilight is not a reason to be in line unless of course you do nothing but try to get the team Edward and team Jacob tweens to break out in a fight. Make sure to have the betting pool in place before hand due to the fact that the point spread is only good if none of the tweens has access to blunt objects and/or a monkey. 

The Start

The start of things to come would be the first thing that I would say if anyone would ask me why I am doing this. Sounds condescending and off putting but really it's the best way to describe the why rather than the how in the moment. That being stated and hopefully understood let me get to the heart of things, or for the bulk of people surfing the internet for work distractions let me try to get to the heart of it, get lazy and then just settle for the spleen or appendix. 


So now that I have set a pace we are off and running as some would say. In the last two years I have been at battle with my own intentions and my purpose never really understanding either sides argument but it was a good fight so I watched letting time slip away. I have decided that I want in some way to be a writer and it was this idea that my intentions and purpose fought so repetitively about. The problem as i have viewed it is that I can't right now be a writer as I think one should be. A writer in my mind is a being comprised and enfolded in the literary world every waking and most sleeping moments in their lives. They jump syntax, weave words, engross themselves in verbiage and die a little each time they finish a work. Their lives are words, their food is words, even the air that they breath is words dancing like leaves across a windy Autumn sky. They drown their whole being in alphabet soup occasionally blowing bubbles that when viewed from a correct height strike fear, love, anger, or sadness upon the minds and hearts of those willing to read the continuing jumble. This idea of a writer fills me with longing because I know honestly with all the stuff in my life I am unable to drown myself in anything but life. 


As a needed clarification when referring to life I understand it to be the moments when you are hastily trying to get your pants back up due to either the impending approach of a scoured lover, or a monster has entered the bathroom and is checking stalls one by one because some how it has locked on to your blood and finds it yummy. Either way you are happy to be done with putting up your pants, but are dumbfounded at the likely hood of such an event happening right now. Congratulations you are living life, now run fool run. 


In an effort o remedy the conflict building in my brain i have come here to an open blog to maybe by chance get some of the details down on a paper of sorts. I feel that even though my life is not giving me the chance to write as I see writers doing, it does not mean I am to lock away the madness of my brain so that normal can take hold. As stated above this is the start of things to come the heralded trumpet blow of the start of an Apocalypse of being just normal in a world that is crazy enough to allow those that try to be super. 


Please bear with me in understanding as I am new and cold and there may or may not be wolves after me. I will try as I can to listen to the voices in my head and filter through the items that fall out. Most if not all of them will end up here and I hope if for anything just a chance to be a writer in a smallish way. 


In closing I leave you with a though and a question. The world is a big place made up of little places made up or even smaller things in tiny places. We as man are a part of the big but in a small room. Being so does that mean we are ourselves to be small to keep the system in order, or do we stand taller and speak louder to be big in our own daily small places?