I was going to blog about something else today but overslept, got sidetracked and now have to go out sharpish.
What do you want? Blood?
Fortunately, this blog’s occasional Canadian correspondent Anna Smith sent me an e-mail.
I never mentioned the movie Star Wars to her.
Nevertheless, she wrote:
I myself am less than thrilled by Star Wars. When I was a teenager I got a a job at the concession stand at a cinema in Toronto. I anticipated an exciting future watching movies for free, saw Casanova, which I found ugly and clumsy, and then the first Star Wars movie arrived and played for months on end, blotting out anything else. I felt terribly guilty about selling the unhealthy coconut greased yellow popcorn and gigantic candy bars, and (possibly) cigarettes. The only thing interesting about the job was that the manager was a terribly obese pale young man who always wore a suit. When passers-by caught a glimpse of him through the lobby’s glass, they could not help but do a double take, which would throw him into a garish rage. He would stare back at them, gesticulating and shouting: “Go ahead! STARE at me… I’m FAT… STARE ALL YOU LIKE!”… That was more memorable than the movies.
And that is what Anna wrote.
Personally, I think a vivid vignette often outweighs relevance.