I’m getting used to weather delays. It’s 7:20 PM (probably eastern time) here at Bush Intercontinental Airport Terminal E.
My flight is delayed. Actually, we have to wait until 8:30 PM before we can get ”more info.” I don’t know what the info
is going to be, but I hope it’s worth the wait. Chew is either sitting in his kennel in an air-conditioned van, or he’s in the
air-conditioned confines of the QuickPack facility by baggage claim. As long as they have him in their possession, he
will be cool. He has water dish filled with frozen water, so that should keep him occupied for the next several hours in case
he’d like a little drink. I’m enjoying a frozen Caramel Light Frappacino from The Evil Empire (Starbucks). They have us all
hooked! Too bad the cigarette making people didn’t think of selling coffee. What else is left that’s addicting but hasn’t
been mass marketed and franchised beyond all recognition? I can’t think of anything. Dammit.
On Friday I saw CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY at the 11:15 PM show at the Willowbrook 24 AMC Theater.
They corralled us into a roped off section (like… a corral… ummm) until the clean-up crew had done its job. We gots the good seats. In this instance,
good seats means we had the metal handrail thing in front of us so we could prop our feet up. Metal handrails are awesome.
They should put them everywhere (including here in the airport terminal waiting area. I’m propping my foot up on a seat across
from me, but I’m dreaming that it’s a metal handrail. Mmmm. And now, back to the movie review. I like Tim Burton’s work, but
the plain truth is that the original film has beautiful, dreamy songs that have held up over time. A movie like this lends itself to
being a musical. A movie like this also lends itself to having an antogonist. Slugworth played that part in the Gene Wilder original.
Guess who’s the antagonist this time around? No one. Nobody. Nada. Zip. The songs that the Oompa Loompas sing aren’t that
good and vary in quality. The ending of the film does feel more in line with what happens in the book. I recall reading Charlie and
The Chocolate Factory when I was in elementary school. It was a sequel to Willy Wonka and began with the glass elevator stopping
at Charlie Bucket’s house to pickup his family and take them to the factory. If this film succeeds, perhaps they will continue the story
beyond the first book. In any case, my hope for sequels notwithstanding, the movie was OK. I will wait for the DVD for viewing
number two. It really didn’t have to be made, but they did it anyway. Whatever.
Saturday I ran my usual round of errands and got ready to go out with a girl I used to hang out with. We’d lost touch but I decided
to bring things back. I still don’t see a lot of things coming out of that. Try, try again. She is incredibily well read and I’m jealous
of her musical and literary knowledge. However, I have Google, and she does not. She doesn’t get on internets at all, matter of fact.
Is that a showstopper? Not really, but it would be another bonus. Oh, speaking of The Mysteries of Women, that girl from last week
that gave me her email address never wrote back. Either she doesn’t check her mail, or it was the Token Giving The Email Address.
I briefly considered sending her an email on Friday informing her that I was going to be out of town and that if she’d planned on
sending me a 2 AM booty call email that I’d be unavailable to respond. It’s in my Save Draft folder. Maybe I’ll send it next Friday
when I go to Ozzfest.
The airport in Houston constantly plays a recorded announcement that says that ”inappropriate remarks or jokes concerning security
may result in your arrest” as a threat against anyone who, supposedly, plans to make some terrorist or bomb jokes. But what about
jokes about cops in general? Or maybe a really good joke about a combination lock? What if I was to tell a joke about the size of
somebody’s badonkadonk not fitting through the metal detector. Wham! I get arrested and go to airport jail.
”Sir, how do you plea to the telling of the inappropriate joke?” ”Guilty as charged, b***ch.”
