An uncharacteristically good day today, or a day I managed to uncharacteristically enjoy, or some damn thing. The point is, the sun came out after a dreary, gray week, and the ennui and despair battering me for months lifted, at least temporarily.
Tabbatha called me two weeks ago asking me if I could spend the day with Paul since she'd been called to some kind of family duty, and I of course said yes. I'd been wanting to take him to Final Season ever since we'd seen a preview. Inspirational sports movies aren't normally my sort of thing, but Paul is baseball crazy, and expressed the desire to see it.
This morning I sat on the bench outside of my building at the agreed-upon drop-off time, then sat for half an hour more before Tabbatha called my cell phone to tell me she was running late. Usually, that sort of thing would piss me off, but since I was digging Katy Lied on my iPod, I really didn't care.
(Incidentally, my use of a cell phone and iPod are both things that would, by my own personal standards, mark me as an asshole. I rail against technology, usually. But the cell comes in handy at times like this and the iPod...well, look, I just finally got around to figuring out how the damned things works last weekend, and I'm already in love with it. Merely walking into my place of employment with some Ennio Morricone blasting in my ears starts the day right, even if the stifling tedium of the job itself soon ruins it.)
They finally arrived, Paul bounding out of the car full of enthusiasm for...whatever we might do. Sure, the movie, but he seemed excited just to spend the whole day with me. Tabbatha took off (not before chuckling at the image of me using technology--"I'm surprised you even know how to turn an iPod on"--and she had a point), and we had to figure out what to do.
First, we reacquainted ourselves with the collected adventures of Chad Vader, then headed out. We ate, then spent an hour or so wandering around the library. I agreed to buy a used Ninja Turtle tape for him, and showed him a coffee table bio of George Lucas showcasing plenty of Star Wars production art. "Have you always been so nice?" he asked.
I don't know as I'm that nice, I said. Women don't seem to think so.
"Oh no, my mom tells people how nice you were. She just doesn't want to be married to you."
Wow. Praise and a slam at the same time. I focused on the praise; I must've been in a good mood.
We still had an hour before the movie, so we took the long way to the theater, giving us time for one of our typically loopy conversations:
"Who's your favorite Star Wars character?" he asked.
I dunno, Chewbacca, maybe...
"No, I mean people. And only characters from A New Hope."
Oh, Princess Leia, no doubt, because I just like her.
"Like her like her?"
Yeah, I laughed.
"If you could marry her or Lauren Graham, which would you marry?"
Scary. This kid knows me way too well.
Finally, we got to the theater. Pleasantly, there were no pre-film ads and only one trailer. The movie began and...
Again, this sort of thing isn't my cup of tea. Sports Movie cliches appeared on schedule, so much so that Paul, who's only eight, could predict them. ("As soon as he throws the pitch, it'll be in slow motion." "The first two will be strikes, then he'll really hit it on the third.") The Coplandesque score provided lots of unintended chuckles.
Damn it, though, they get so many details of small-town Iowa life right. Somebody even uses the word "pertinear" at one point, and from then on, this thing had me. The simplistic characterizations and rote storytelling didn't matter, because it felt true. The small tragedy of a small community school being swallowed up by a larger whole, and the subsequent devastating effect on the town's businesses...this may have been merely background to a baseball-themed Hoosiers knock-off, but such a lovingly portrayed background!
After the movie, Paul said it was better than Star Wars. That prompted another loopy, logic-impaired conversation, one that happily continued all the way until I dropped him off at his mother's apartment. I felt so good afterwards that I actually went grocery shopping on a Saturday afternoon. The store was crowded, but a new check-out line opened as I approached. A small, good thing in a day already full of them.
