Monday April 10, 2006
	At the movies in America.
	I've come to see Lucky Number Slevin but before I can I'm forced to walk past armed police officers standing alongside the uniformed kid ripping tickets.  Slowly, each ticket holding person is allowed to pass.  The movie employee could easily double or even triple his speed but I figure the pace has been set by the authorities (allowing the cops ample time to look each attendee over). I'm next to have my tickets ripped and when I hand them to the worker I look to my right and a tall policeman with a brush cut looks into my eyes.  While the ticket taker is handing me my torn tickets I look to my left and another cop (with big muscles) looks me over only he's resting his hand near his semi-automatic handgun. "Enjoy your show," he says then smiling.  When the ticket taker smiles the cops smile and when the cops smile I smile and while I'm smiling I count the number of cameras mounted on the ceiling as I head to the candy counter:  one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.    Fifteen cameras.  Fifteen.  When it's my turn I say to the attendant: "Popcorn and one medium Coke, please." I figure it was a good thing to say please because in addition to the four additional ceiling mounted cameras behind the candy counter (one aimed at me) I see another armed police officer (standing near the popcorn machine) and when I look at him he smiles but when I look too long he stops smiling and when he stops smiling I look away. I'm heading to screen nine.  Lucky Number Slevin is in theater number nine.  While I'm walking and drinking Coke from a straw I resume my camera count:  one, two, three, four, five and past another police officer and into the theater.   In the theater it's cool and dark and when I sit I push handfuls of popcorn into my mouth and while I'm pushing handfuls of popcorn into my mouth an armed female officer walks past me heading up the stairs.  When I turn I see she has seated herself in a seat in the far corner in the top row.  When she sees me looking at her she waves but I don't wave back instead I turn and push handfuls of popcorn into my mouth. To myself I'm thinking: Shit, I should have waved.  She's gonna wonder why I didn't wave.  Why the hell didn't you wave Norm? I hear my mother say: Regular people like you and me have no reason to fear the police.  The police folk are our friend, son. Lucky Number Slevin is packed with seasoned stars and I'm looking forward to it but first there's the advertisements and then the previews and mixed in with the previews is a piece called United 93: "Honey it's me my flight has been hijacked." Some of the theater attendees make booing sounds, maybe a dozen walk out only to return when the trailer for United 93 has ended. Just before Lucky Number Slevin begins we're warned that we can be ejected from the theater if our cell phone rings and then an animated bag of dancing popcorn reminds us to drink Coca-Cola and buy snacks from the concession stand. Jeez. I'm drinking a Coca-Cola with light ice.  I always ask for light ice because I feel I get more. PREVIOUS   HOME   NEXT