I forgot to mention that Sylvia and I saw U-571 last night at the now not-so-recently-opened theater on Newberry. The theater is almost exactly the same as the one on the north end of Clyde Morris in Ormond Beach. It’s very large. They’ve made a passing attempt at recreating the feel of a 1940s theater and utterly failed. The popcorn was $4.50 and reminded me sorely of the main reason I loathe going to the movies to see a movie. The actual room in which we saw the flick was very small, but, thanks to some disabilities act there is now always a huge center aisle at the movies which I love because, although I am not extraordinarily tall I do have rather long legs so I hate sitting with another seat less then two feet from my hips or else I have to sit up straight like I’m in third grade math and about to be rapped by Sister Euphrasia for slouching which is predictably a bothersome way to be feeling when you go to see a movie. Where was I? Oh, yes. I also hate to sit anywhere except for the first ten or fifteen rows because I am, in fact, nearly as blind as a bat – probably from staring at #$%&@ computer screens for the better part of the last decade. And I hate glasses. The only true joy I feel at going to the movie theater to see a movie is that, for some pop contemporary marketing ad-cult-esque truly ridiculous reason, all movie theaters now have quadrophonic, DMX, THX, UV, ULT, SQL, stereo, Dolby, digital B L A R I N G speaker systems. I love that. That point alone makes some movies wonderful to me. David *heart* Loud. U-571 was an exceptional movie for the loud-lovers among us (humungous? fungus?). There were many explosions. Sylvia could barely manage to sleep through most of it, it was so loud. She did wake up towards the end to ask who the hell was going to hear the morse code and then get really mad at me when I told her the answer because, duh, she knew that and what difference did it make if it was heard by the person hearing it (I’m trying not to give anything away about the plot here …) and who did I think I was for telling her something like … zzzzz …. Which was all kind of exciting for me because I was just about bouncing on the edge of my seat with tension – most likely simply repressed fear from the first time I saw JAWS and you know what? I know that there weren’t any links in this particular blog and I don’t feel all that guilty about it. I’m sure there are four hundred thousand web sites about JAWS and, except for me telling you that if you can dig dubya-dubya-two, loud, explosion-filled, kill-the-Nazis, war movies you really should go see it, I don’t want to promote, per se, the blockbuster of the moment.