 |
 |
 |
| previous column | next column |
The National Anthem, Superman Returns, and Elephant Shoes
07/05/06
by Shaw
I don't know what it is about my friends and movies, but I almost never agree with any of them on issues of taste. Usually this is because I never like the movies that everyone else does. I think this means my tastes are more refined, more restrictive, and hence, correct... instead, people tell me that I am too picky: "you're looking for too much, it's not supposed to be a 'good movie' it's just an action movie/comedy/whatever." How can I respond to this ridiculous "argument"? I say I didn't like it, I didn't think it was a good movie, and my friend says it's not supposed to be a good movie. Okay, so I'm not wrong, what I don't get is how you can admit that it's a bad movie and then still say you liked it. Anyway, just like Mr. and Mrs. Smith, which Clay glowingly praised on this website, and Batman Begins, which was a load of crap, Superman Returns is a bad movie. It is long, boring, shoddily written, and discontinuous with the story arcs of the rest of the Superman series. Admittedly I haven't read the comics but I assume that since the entire story was credited to Bryan Singer and the DC Comics name only flashed once on the screen, he took the liberty in making Lex Luthor into a vicious and violent killer. If you read this column and have some kind of comic book-related argument about why I am wrong, then I don't care. The point is I saw this movie on Sunday with 7 people and I am ashamed to say that I am the only one who didn't like it. Refined, restrictive, intelligent.
While Superman apparently forgot about The American Way in the new film, I certainly didn't for this fourth of July weekend. Aside from the obvious fireworks attendance, I did something this year that I will probably never do again: I sang the National Anthem at a baseball game. This sounds impressive, but it's probably not when you consider that: 1. I sang with a group of eight people; 2. they asked us if we could sing it a year after we sent them our demo CD; 3. they asked us a week before the day of the game; 4. we sang for a stadium that was 1/20th full. But still, the point remains, we sang the anthem.
When I told Clay I would be doing this (actually I told him for the first time while I was walking down the steps to the field for sound check two hours before the game started), he commanded me to write a column about the experience. Obediently I responded that of course, sir, I will write a column, sir, how else can I help you, Clay, sir? And I thought at the time that this would be no problem, because given my history with such events, surely something would go awry that I could write about. Unfortunately, the only thing that went awry was... that nothing went awry. My parents came down to see the game (my father disclosed this nugget that encapsulated the motivation behind their second 7 hour trip to DC in as many weeks: "well we could wait until the next time our son sings the national anthem at a baseball game but that might be a while"). Their train was only 2 hours late and only had to have one engine replacement in Philadelphia, so as far as I'm concerned, relative to their usual experience traveling, they had a great trip.
This photo was taken from the upper deck so excuse blurriness.
My friend Bill had sung the National Anthem at Camden Yards a few times in college and said the singers didn't even get tickets to the games... but that was the mid-90s and Camden Yards was brand new so they were selling out. Thankfully this is the Nationals, and even though they are brand new in DC, because of the impending (or perhaps it's already happened) death of baseball, they don't sell out anything but the Yankees and Orioles games... I still can't believe they are actually going to build a new stadium for this ridiculous sport. Thank God I don't live in DC so I don't have to pay for it.... Anyway, because no one cares enough about baseball in this city to go watch it, we got free seating in a suite in right field and admission into the Diamond Club, with an impressive buffet that included a plate of hand-dipped chocolate covered pretzels (not to sound like a girl and violate Maniquette, but I am going to name my next zit "Nat," thanks a lot guys). And that was it. We sang the National Anthem, got free food, and watched the game from a suite in right field.
The baseball stadium lists the official attire for
singing the Anthem as "Ballgame Casual..." you be the judge, I'm all
the way on the left.
As I read this over there is not a hint of the self-loathing you have come to expect, and for that I am sorry. I am sure you can count on something horrible to happen to me soon, and when it happens I will be sure to tell you about it. Until then.
_______________________________________
Discuss this and any other column deadlyhippos.com column at our message board.