Dickness

It was brought to my attention last Thursday that my vehicle was in need of an inspection sticker. It had expired that day and I wasn’t planning on going anywhere for the rest of the day so I made plans to get the car inspected the following day.

I did not have access to a ride back home from the auto repair shop where I was having my car inspected, so I prepared myself for the dread of sitting around in the waiting area reading six month old issues of Sports Illustrated. To be more precise, if I was lucky they would have numerous issues of Sports Illustrated or Newsweek, but likely they would have one or two, and I would spend the bulk of my time sitting there peering out the window watching traffic.

When I used to get my car serviced at this repair shop, I would go across the street to the bookstore and spend most of my wait hunting for as many books as I could find. My appetite for finding and reading new books has become ravenous in recent years. I can never find enough books to satiate my reading needs. I would not have been so apprehensive about the experience of waiting for my car to be inspected, if not for the fact that the book store across the street had recently closed.

I made my way to the counter and explained that I needed my car inspected, the man behind the counter took my keys and told me that it would be an hour to an hour and half. Upon hearing this my brain began to contemplate a new plan for how to bide my time while my car was being poked and prodded like a model on one of those awful reality shows. Thankfully they would likely show more respect to my car’s feelings than the judges on those shows usually show to the fragile young models.

“An hour or and hour and a half?” I inquired of the clerk.

“I don’t know maybe an hour, maybe an hour and a half,” he said.

He hadn’t really clarified his initial statements, but my plan had crystallized into focus.

“Alright, well I am going to go to the movies across the street. I will have to turn my phone off, so when the car is done just leave a voice mail.”

I had given the clerk far more information than he needed, but I was essentially confirming to myself that this was indeed the course of action I was going to be taking. At least I had not told him how I had been meaning to go to the new theater across the street for some time and was glad to finally get the chance to do so. Instead of giving the clerk that superfluous bit of information, I instead chose to give it to you instead. You are welcome.

Roger Ebert had reviewed the movie Zombieland in the morning paper and given it three stars. I was somewhat skeptical that it was possible for someone to make another zombie movie that I would actually enjoy. In recent years 28 Days Later and Shaun of the Dead seemed to have taken Zombie movies as far as they could go. The movie likely could not be funnier than Shaun of the Dead or as well done as 28 Days Later. Ebert somewhat allayed my fears by mentioning his own skepticism of seeing yet another zombie movie. It was either Zombieland or the Invention of Lying with Ricky Gervais. The Gervais’ movie had also received positive reviews and I am a fan of Gervais, but in the end I decided to go with Zombieland. I look forward to a what will probably be a wonderful comedy bit by Gervais about how movie goers ended up choosing to see a movie about Zombies over his movie. Maybe he will point out how America’s obsessive-eating habits make us zombie sympathizers. He has previously made mention of America’s zest for overeating in recent stand up routines.

I can say without exaggeration that I have not had as much fun at a movie theater in the last ten years as I had watching Zombieland. I am usually reluctant to go solo to a movie, but I am glad I made an exception. Zombieland is a great experience right from the start of the movie, all the way until the end. It is equal parts hilarity and ass-kicking zombie movie. Since it was a matinee there were maybe only twenty people in the theater, but it was obvious that everyone in the theater was having a good time.

Woody Harrelson continues to be an undervalued actor. I would complain about how people should give him more credit, but I tend to be one of those people who does not immediately think of him when I think of my favorite actors or actresses. In addition to Zombieland, Woody was also great in The People Vs. Larry Flint, Natural Born Killers and No Country for Old Men. He is one of the few actors in Hollywood today who can pull off comedy, action, drama or a combination of both.

Jesse Eisenberg, who was previously seen in Adventureland, is effective as a likeable, shy loner. Harrelson and Eisenberg are essentially Don Quixote and Sancho Panza as Eisenberg notes to the sisters, who eventually join them as they travel across the country leaving a trail of dead zombies in their wake. The sisters are played by Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin. Eisenberg reminds me of a more subdued Michael Cera, which I was not sure was possible. Like Cera in Superbad and Arrested Development, Eisenberg’s understated performances have worked so far, but it will be interesting to see if either can play more than the one note they have shown so far.

Emma Stone seems like a younger Lindsey Lohan. Maybe not Lindsey Lohan when she was younger as she was more curvaceous than Stone, but she looks a bit like her and also has a raspy voice. A quick look at imdb.com shows that Lohan is about two years older than Stone, although sadly she looks about ten or fifteen years older than her.

My only regret is that I read Ebert’s review that morning. He did a good job in explaining why it was a movie worth seeing, but he spoiled the surprise cameo. It was still a great cameo, but I have to believe it would have been even better if I had not known who the actor was in advance. Ebert is like a trusted-old friend, even though I do not always agree with his opinions about movies, I can usually get a good sense of whether I will enjoy a movie based on his review of it. He is not in good health these days, so I will not get too angry about his unnecessary spoiler alert.

I headed back to the auto repair shop to find the clerk on the phone. He stayed on the phone for the entire transaction, in which I paid for the inspection and signed the form which stated the car had passed the necessary tests required by the state of New York to continue to legally access its roads. I had turned my phone back on after leaving the theater, but I saw no evidence of any message from the clerk. When I got home I received an alert showing I had a voice mail. I checked the message and heard the following:

“Yeah I’m calling about the 99 Mitsubishi Galant. It passed inspection, but the rear tire is a little low and it needs new wiper blades.”

Maybe Tyra Banks or the clerk at the auto repair shop did not appreciate my car, and even though her rear is sagging a bit and her wipers have seen better days, I hope she and Roger Ebert are around for years to come.

Postscript: To be clear I was referring to my car’s rear sagging and her wipers sagging as a metaphor to women who would likely be laughed off the stage at shows such as America’s Top Model, but that I would be glad perfectly happy to take home with me. In no way was I referring to Tyra Banks’ weight or appearance as I’m sure she would likely still pass an inspection based on her physical appearance. The problem would likely be when they went under the hood. Alright I think it is time to end this post and that metaphor as it sounds like I am saying something entirely different than I meant. When I said under the hood, what I meant was that she seems a bit nutty not that she has any issues anatomically speaking. This post will now end as many of my dates have over the years, on an awkward note.

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