‘Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. And they’re always glad you came.’ It’s a great feeling to walk into a place and know that everyone knows you and is genuinely happy to see you. For Sam, Norm, Cliff, and Frasier, that place was a bar called Cheers. For hubby, that place is Blockbuster.
He has secretly always wanted to be like Norm. He has longed to walk into an establishment and have everyone throw up their hands and shout, ‘Nate!’
Well, he’s finally found his niche. All the Blockbuster employees know his name, and considering the amount of money he spends there, I’m certain they are always glad he came.
Last Saturday as we were renting two more movies, the clerk said, ‘I can’t believe you haven’t been invited to become a gold member yet.’
Further inquiry revealed that Blockbuster offers an invitation only, gold membership to their most outstanding customers. You get free movie rentals and special offers, and can eventually be upgraded to platinum membership.
It made hubby feel pretty special to know that at any moment he will be invited to the inner circle. The clerk said it was truly amazing that he wasn’t already a member, so I had to ask the obvious question, ‘Exactly how many movies has he rented’?
Are you ready for this? It’s insane. Truly insane. Five hundred and forty-nine. Five hundred and forty-nine!
I stood at the counter, gasping for breath. Do you realize how many hours of our lives that represents? Well, not my life really because I’ve probably watched less than 25 percent of those movies, but hubby has watched every single one, and he has no regrets.
This insanity started years ago. Our first date was at the Avon Theater for a Sunday afternoon showing of The Rescuers Down Under. That’s a cartoon. I hate animated movies, but since it was my first date with this total babe I wasn’t about to complain. And in retrospect, I seem to recall that he actually wanted to go see The Fly, but we missed that showing and settled for the only other option. It never occurred to either of us to skip the theater and find something else to do.
I don’t think we have gone a single weekend since that first date without attending or renting a movie, or two, or three. I have slept through many of them, even at times lying across the seats at the theater and snoozing while he took in a bloody action flick or gory horror show. And, maybe I shouldn’t share this, but to his credit he totally digs chick flicks too, so, I do get my fair share of entertainment.
You see, he grew up without television, and neither of us were allowed to attend the movies as kids, but I don’t feel his same need to catch up. I’ve never seen E.T. or Star Wars because they came out around the same year my dad went into the ministry, and theaters became off-limits. But I honestly don’t care. I have no desire whatsoever to go back and watch them no matter how iconic they have become in our pop culture society. But hubby is different.
He started watching T.V. when he was fourteen, via a computer monitor he rigged up in his bedroom. From that point, viewing everything he’d ever missed grew into a full-fledged obsession. Catching up with sixty years of Hollywoood, and staying on top of current releases, means we have rented five hundred and forty-nine movies just from Blockbuster. If I counted the number of times we’ve gone to the theater, watched movies on satellite, and rented from other places in the seventeen years since our first date, I would probably be sick. I don’t know which is worse, the amount of hours that represents, or the amount of money.
I probably shouldn’t complain though. At least he’s home and not out spending his money on drugs, booze, and wild women (unless you think I’m wild). He doesn’t hang out at bars or go to sporting events. In fact, he has little to no interest in sports at all, so at least I’m not a sports widow
As far as hobbies, he probably spends a couple hundred dollars a year on guitar strings and bluegrass events so I certainly can’t complain there.
All in all, I guess it’s not really a problem, except when he insists on helping me catch up too. He likes it when I watch the ‘classics’ like Police Academy, Top Gun, and anything starring Molly Ringwald, but I set my foot down after Fast Times at Ridgemont High.
Viewing it helped me see why the girls in my high school couldn’t comprehend purity or chastity. It made me angry that Hollywood was doling that crud out, impressing my peers with the idea that the characters and scenarios were totally cool and completely normal. While my father’s standards made me a blessedly oblivious young teen, everyone around me was going to heck in a hand basket. I’d rather not catch up on the eighties, thank you very much.
Hubby, on the other hand, thought it was a great movie. Hopefully, good taste isn’t a requirement for gold membership.
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