It amazes me, quite happily, that Pirates of the Caribbean was still playing! Woohoo! Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom goodness. And despite hearing that it was really good from everyone, the movie still surpassed our expectations. I was really expecting Jack Sparrow to just be bizarre, what I didn't expect was that bone-deep goal-orientation. Where the little problems with his plans didn't make a difference to his focus on his goal. That was very, very, very fun. Plus having one thing he did that I thought would do one thing, but did another as well, unexpectedly, but entirely within the pre-set parameters of the reality. I loved the affects.
Wow. It was FUN, too. I laughed a lot. The theater was also really, really full. That surprised me, too, this far along in its release. There were a couple of kids that found it far too scary, and I was glad that I hadn't brought Jet along. But it was a lot of fun for John and I.
There's something about pirates, the Caribbean, and the whole mythology of pirates that really appeals. There's room for real cleverness and lots of room for what I love. I honestly don't think that there is that room in the premise for The Haunted House. I got to see the preview for that, and Eddie Murphy is... too obvious... unlike the marvelous surprise of Johnny Depp. I don't think I'll try, as hard, to see it as I did with Pirates.
Later that evening I got to run to the Erie Conoco for some eggs, as we had to do all the refreshments for church this morning, and two of the recipes for muffins and biscotti needed eggs galore.
It was so surreal. Surreal to be driving my Passat, my powerful, solid car with the music cranked, the chilly fall evening blowing through the windows, and no Jet in the backseat talking to me. Just me, the road, and an instrument meant to take me along it. Just an instant of what it would feel like to leave the warm light of the family that was behind me... and then falling back into the practical me as I hopped out at the Conoco and got the eggs and a twenty-five cent packet of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls for my own indulgence when Jet wasn't looking. Amusingly enough, they had a lit, gorgeous display of Krispy Kreme donuts as well, and I was lured, but didn't fall for the glamour.
It was odd, last night, as it felt like if I poked hard enough, anywhere there would be a break into magic. The spindly, sleepy, friendly clerk at the station, the squat Mexican laborer with his beat up pick-up, the black leather covered motorcyclist who held the door for me as I went out, the lack of a moon, the chill on the air, and a truck stopped in the midst of the road with a door open, spilling light on a woman with hair as red as fire looking at me with a white face as I pulled gently by the truck. All might have been doorways away...
... and I took none of them. Treated it all very mundanely. and walked right back into the warm circle of light, and the tiny arms of Jet around my neck as he was so happy to see me back, even from just a half hour errand. My. It was worth avoiding the temptation.