Monday, February 28, 2005

Proclamation

WHEREAS Eyewitness News has tracked a noreaster headed straight for my town; and
WHEREAS an anticipated fourteen inches of snow will blanket the roads in a matter of hours; and
WHEREAS it would be unconscionable for my company to have me risk life and limb driving home at 6:30 in the evening,

I HEREBY DECLARE, this twenty-eighth day of Febrary, 2005, that in all likelihood I will be going home early.

As a kid, the only thing better than a full snow day was an early dismissal. True, you still had to get up early and you probably even had to go to math or--God help you--gym, but there is no joy comparable to the unbridled elation of twelve hundred kids learning they can leave RIGHTNOW. The announcement would always come during fifth period in high school, right in the middle of class. You'd be mid-proof, or mid-essay, or mid-half-assed-discussion-of-Julius-Caesar and with one single crackle of the intercom system you (like every single student in the school) were stricken inhumanly silent, so tense with anticipation that you found yourself gripping the sides of your desk.

I don't think I ever even heard the entire announcement. It would always go something like "Attention all students and teachers: Due to inclement weather, the school board has decided that all students must go..." followed by a window-shattering scream. Doors were flung open. Teachers half-heartedly attempted to keep kids in their seats, but we fled our classes with an urgency usually reserved for P.O.Ws escaping a labor camp. Books were thrown. Chalk fell to the floor with the vibration of the stampede and was pulverized underfoot. Desks were toppled. There was hugging and kissing in the hallways. And, just as the roads reached that stage of icy one could justifiably call treacherous, Yorktown Central Schools loosed hundreds of freshly-licensed drivers into the great, increasingly white, beyond.

Early dismissals are honestly my greatest childhood memories. I can't imagine that going home early today will be quite as exciting, but that's not to say I'm not fantisizing about smashing my coffee cup at the first sign of precipitation, kicking over my chair, screaming "YES, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS, I'M GOIN' HOME!" and sprinting for the elevator with one arm in my coat.

Until then, though, I've got to look busy.

This weekend, Kai and I saw Cursed, a long overdue installment in the "Guy in a Suit" film genre, a horror movie subset shamefully neglected of late. Seriously, what's better than watching Shannon Elizabeth (who else?) mauled to bits by a terrifying werewolf whose diabolical zipper is devilishly exposed? Who can pass up watching Xtina Ricci and her giant head narrowly escape the fatal bite of a monster's fiendishly rubber fangs? Not this girl.

Cursed, aside from getting my enthusiastic two thumbs up and possibly even a high-five, has really inspired me to get serious about my own cinematic aspirations. I want to make a horror film in the "Guy in a Suit" vein, except the monster suit would literally be a zip-up hoodie. The evil anti-hero would be kind of a skinny guy in a track jacket. I was thinking I could call it The Insulated, or Thermal, or maybe Your Mother Knows You Didn't Wear Your Coat Last Fall [And You Could've Caught Your Death, But You Never Listen.].

I figure if the Blair Witch Project got away with making sticks their villain, I'm guaranteed to break box-office records.

1 Comments:

Blogger joslik said...

Snowstorms are awesome. Enjoy :)

10:33 PM  

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