Near, Far, Wherever You Are, The Shame Will Go On

April 17, 2012

in Blame The Sudafed, I Learn the Lessons So You Don't Have To, OldSchool

Just because I’m a stay-at-home-mom in the wilds of Maine, without cable TV, newspapers, or the patience to read even the captions on People’s “Last Night’s Look: Hit or Miss?” page, doesn’t mean I’m not plugged in to what’s happening in the world.

Why, just today I discovered the following:

– The 24/7 news networks have run out of actual conflicts to report on, and thus decided to re-ignite the always fun Mommy Wars campaign.

– The Zombie Apocalypse is soon to be upon us.

– Or perhaps the Robot Revolution.

– Either way? My Costco-sized stock-pile of toilet paper is not going to be enough to see us through.

– And Titanic has been re-released. In 3-D.

The Big Man would just like to let ya’ll know that that last point? Is why he fully stands behind The Bloggess’s apocalypse predictions. There’s just no other rational explanation for inflicting Celine Dion’s Song-That-Never-Ends upon humanity a second time.

Personally, I’m a HUGE fan of the fact that Titanic has been re-released. If for no other reason that I can finally say that I’ve actually seen a movie currently in theaters.

Not that I’ll be going back to see it. Once was more than enough.

Which is not to say that I didn’t LOVE the storyline. I was 14 when it was first released. If things had gone down differently, I’m fairly certain I’d have been one of those girls who saw it 107 times in theater. And would most certainly have a faded, tear-stained, commemorative T-Shirt to match the poster permanently adhered to my bedroom door of yore.

But my first time was, shall we say, memorable enough…

I’d been in agony over how to get myself to a theater for weeks to see this movie. I was saving every penny I could find. Watching each and every preview on it with baited breath. And begging my friends lucky enough to have already seen it at least 3 times not to spoil the ending for me.

And then, one fortunate day, my grandfather called and said he was interested in seeing some sort of historical motion picture documenting the Titanic, and, if it was alright with my mother, would I like to go with him?

Sure, he wasn’t the tow-headed cutie who sat three seats up and one seat over from me in Algebra, whose hand I’d dreamed of holding all the way through the opening credits. But he’d do.

So we went.

Grandaddy, being the consumate Southern gentleman, bought the tickets and the popcorn. We settled into a seat close enough for him to comfortably see the screen through the thick lenses of the bifocals slipping down his nose, yet far enough from the speakers not to feel our hearts jump out of rhythm with every downbeat of the bass, and watched.

I was completely taken in. The vibrancy of Rose’s dress and that giant, gorgeous hat in those opening scenes. The near-panic when Jack all but misses the boat as it sets sail. The glamor of the first-class dining room. The rush of sea air as she stands on the deck. The instant attraction when he pulls her back from the edge of destiny. I barely even heard my grandfather as he started in on the first dozen historical inaccuracies he’d catalogued thus far. And by the time my feet were itching to dance to the Irish beat of forbidden love, I could have been in that theater completely alone for all the care I gave to my grumbling grandfather, the tween kicking the back of my seat, or the co-eds hastily zipping up their pants before being escorted out the side door.

And then.

IT happened.

Jack and Rose. Did. IT.

In the car. On a couch. Dancing sideways on an iceberg. I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. That part of the movie? Is a bit…hazy. Partly because it was 15years ago. And any offspring of Jack & Rose’s could now be starring on the next episode of MTV’s 16&Pregnant. Which means that I? Am OLD. And memory loss is what happens to old people.

Or at least that’s what I’m hoping.

And while  I have not yet recovered fully from the full-body blush that lit up that theater like a scarlet A, my grandfather managed to file that little tidbit under Senility. And by the time the captain had gone down with his ship, was blithely informing me that, had Jack and Rose really been stupid enough to hang on to the end, they would have been sucked under by the force of the sinking ship like a pair of love-struck barnacles.

{ 1 comment }

Krystyn April 17, 2012 at 10:28 pm

I can’t even imagine seeing this movie with my grandpa…then again, he’s been in the room with me when I was nursing my 2 day old first born, so let’s say there wasn’t a lot of modesty:)

Yeah, I guess breastfeeding and IT aren’t quite the same thing.

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