You experience a long drought — a dry spell, I tell ya — when there just aren’t any movies out there to see in Matinee-land.

I’m trying not to obsess over the lack of an accent mark over that first e. MW says either/or, but this just screams “knee” to me, not “nay”. Saturday, we went to the mati(knee).

Moving along.

All of a sudden — bam! — you’re seeing one movie right after another.

Yep. That’s what happened to us.

Yep. Yep. We leave our hearth and home and travel down the road to mingle with other bipedal uprights; slouching in chairs with feet up on rails, and consuming copious quantities of coke and popcorn — not me!

We go to The Show.

We risk the traffic, the weather, the potential for creepy crawlies to well… creep and crawl, the fug air, and our precious ears for the big screen experience.

I can’t speak for Mr. G, honey, but part of the big screen experience for me is audience reaction. I want to smell it, hear it, taste it, feel it.

When do they laugh? When do they gasp? When do they crawl under the seat like a girl? (Oops. That might be me.) When do they cry like babies?

I’m crying like a baby just watching the trailer for War Horse. I’m not sure I can take it on the big screen.

Recently in Matinee-land, we saw this ~

I wanted to sew all my worldly goods into the hem of my skirt after seeing this film. Monetary thrills and chills.

Then we saw this ~

Help me, Rhonda. I expect Oscar nominations for Michelle Williams and the Cinematographer, Ben Smithard. A truly talented ensemble cast.

And this~

Michell Pfeiffer, I heart you. That is all. I get right into these series vignette movies. Sarah Jessica Parker wins Best Clogs in a Vignette category. The girl can walk the shoe runway.

Yup, matinee ‘ho.

You? Any Matinee-land finds to report? Tell all.

For Writers ~ @ Terribleminds, Wendig’s, 25 Things Writers Should Know About Rejection. Wendig’s not a sugar coater. Gird your writing rejection loins. Click on over.

More For Writers ~ @ Girlfriends Book Club, Karin Gillespie’s All Work and No Play* Makes a Dull Writer. When Crazy Daisy meets Ms. Grind. Clickety, click.

For Christmas Tree Lovers Everywhere ~ @ Design Milk, Modern Christmas Tree, posted by Jaime. Yep. Click. Def.

For Grilled Cheese and Tomato Soup Lovers ~ @ HuffPost Kitchen Daily, Grilled Cheese and Tomato Soup Recipe Combos. Six sandwiches to combine with six soups. Be still my Northern Girl heart. Click. On. Over.

TGIF, baby!

The 2011 Footloose, starring Kenny Wormald, Julianne Hough and Dennis Quaid was darker, less musical, less fun. In this case, less is not more.

I’m undecided.

I enjoyed Kevin Bacon and Kenny Wormald equally in the role of Ren MacCormack, though it was played differently.

I’m undecided.

I preferred the 2011 Willard, played by Miles Teller to the Willard of 1984, portrayed by Chris Penn, but enjoyed the scene where Willard learns to dance more in the original.

I’m undecided.

Julianne Hough (as Ariel Moore) is beautiful and a talented dancer, but I just had a hard time putting her and high school senior in the same frame. I may be out of touch. Woefully.

I’m undecided.

Lithgow or Quaid?

Lithgow.

If they had gone with the big musical finish that the original did, I think I could have left the theater satisfied. But they didn’t. They made it shorter. Choppier.

Even though they made it a darker, edgier, more [air quotes] contemporary [end air quotes] film, they needed that big, musical finish to make it Footloose.

I wanted to love this movie with my whole heart.

Maybe if they had called it Footloose, Back to the Future.

I’m undecided.

Note: No *spoilers* in this post.

Ever had a morning theater experience? You should do it. Just once.

I’m not talking the after midnight, Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer-is-out-trolling-for-vamps morning. I’m talking the Hello!, birdies chirping, sun shining, paper-thumping-against-the-door morning.

If you read Friday’s post, you know that Mr. G honey was drafted (and I elected) to see a 9 o’clock showing of the latest Harry Potter. This was not a problem for him. He routinely rises and shines with the call of the rooster. We don’t have a rooster, but he hears the call anyway. Rooster-call gifted.

Here’s how it went down.

I stayed up until 2 o’clock Friday morning, because I was writing don’t have the sense God gave a goose. I rocketed out of bed at 7:30, because we were leaving at 8:15, and I needed my decaffeine and maybe some flip-flops and underwears and everything else that adds up to a field trip ensemble.

I reminded myself that I wanted to do this morning theater experience, because I really wasn’t interested in the I can see up your wand Harry Potter seating that was a sure bet in the post meridiem. Mr. G honey doesn’t stand in lines. Does. Not. Do. It.

I choked down some yogurt and a banana, and we hit the road. The sun already felt like high noon, and I was wearing my retro 50s sunglasses and a floppy straw hat, long pants and UV50+ Tropicwear long-sleeved, vented shirt from L.L. Bean in eye-popping tangerine. Let me tell you. I needed it against the high UVs in the Echo-mobile and the high ACs in the theater.

The theater parking lot wasn’t as full as I expected. It’s a big 24 AMC. But there were cars. I asked the ticket wicket person if the theater was full for the first show. Nope. Only 90 tickets had been sold by the time we arrived.

Here is what I learned.

~ Morning tickets cost $6.00, instead of $10.50. Happy, happy. Dance, dance.

~ Yes. People eat popcorn at 9 o’clock in the morning. Big tubs of it. With butter. And super-sized drinks. And chocolate. And MexiCasa Nachos. And Tastee ice cream. Movie theater eating is a cultural thing, maybe even a cult thing. They call it “mindless” eating. I splurged and bought a bottle of Dasani for $4.25. Now, I fall into the no longer a cheap date category.

~ Yes. Lots of people were wearing Harry Potter tees in our intergenerational audience that had blossomed to about 125 by the time the trailers started, give or take 25. Some wear jammies, too. I should have thought of that, but we were doing lunch afterward. Our big Friday night date had morphed into our big Friday morning date.

~ Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 exceeded my expectations. It was awesome. I loved it.

The End.

Okay. I wasn’t actually doing that. That is not in my pictorial dictionary under treadmill or dinosaur or under Easter dinner aftermath. That is never gonna happen.

But I did spend a goodly amount of time tromping around the flower beds in my rubber boots — before The Rains came — tidying plants from the winter season, digging out some early pesky dandelions, and spying all manner of post winter growth. The blue tips of the Blue False Indigo are showing, as are the tips of several hostas, and the deep red tips of the peonies. Common violets are poking up everywhere — even where they shouldn’t be. Day lilies and chives are about six inches high, and the periwinkle has opened a bloom or three. Progress, baby.

For my money, that was better than a whirl-on-the-treadmill-that-is-never-gonna-happen any day.

Because here in my neck of Canadaland it is Easter Monday, Mr. G honey and I had a playdate.

Because The Rains were coming, we decided to go see Water for Elephants and eat theater popcorn.

Thinking more about that treadmill experience.

You should see it, too. It was seriously good. I’m going to read the book now.

Here be Monday.

Elen

I’m working on a short story right now. Can you hear the the screaming across the intertoobs? I love the short story form, but there isn’t any margin for…..anything. Tight, tight, tight. That is what your writing must be.

I’ve been writing, stepping out. This morning, I stepped out with just a hoodie on. It’s going to be 46 here today with the sun shining. I have chives inching up out of the ground and crocuses that are straining to bloom. Not bad for Hump Day.

Back in February, February 3rd to be exact, Author Colleen Thompson over at Boxing the Octopus had a little win-a-free-book-and-movie-poster thing going on. Leave a comment and be one of five lucky winners. I left a comment not expecting to win, because I live in Canadaland. But I must have had my mojo working, because I turned out to be one of the five lucky winners.

A few weeks later, this was delivered to my door:

Yes. This yummy poster. Well, Hello Matthew McConaughey, honey. And that nice fat, trade paperback of THE LINCOLN LAWYER by Michael Connelly. All courtesy of the movie studio — Lionsgate — and sent by Little, Brown and Company.

I’ve never read a Michael Connelly suspense novel before. I’m looking forward to it.

Mr. G, honey and I did some stepping out last week. We stepped out to see…

www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YRVy75v7fc

It was a Thursday night in our little burg. Late afternoon, actually. We were playing hooky. Absent without leave. There were three of us in the theater. The Brit must have been playing hooky, too.

The movie was good. Real good. The tension, the pacing was exactly right. McConaughey was the best I’ve ever seen him in a role. Full props.

On the way out, I asked the Brit — that’s how I found out he was a Brit — if he enjoyed the film. Why, yes. Yes, he did. He’s read every single Michael Connelly book and assured me that I would have a thoroughly satisfying read.

Can’t wait.

So, thank you Colleen Thompson. Thank you Boxing the Octopus. Thank you Lionsgate. Thank you Little, Brown and Company. And thank you Michael Connelly and Matthew McConaughey for an evening of fine entertainment. Very fine.

Elen