Oh my god.
Well, now I know that Newcastle is an evil, evil brew that makes me giddy as a wombat.
I know this because after my adventures in teaching and returning a rental car, only to see two cab drivers beat the crap out of each other I met my river sister and our friend Bret at the Parkway Theater for an evening of cinematic stupidity: Will Farrell's Talladega Nights.
Unlike Nacho Libre, this film humorously lampooned a certain segment of sport that I am vaguely familiar with. As a former resident of North Carolina, I am familiar with the NASCAR phenomenon.
When I worked for WRAL, the CBS Affiliate in Raleigh, I had to make graphics for sports and I remember having to put in the symbols for the Pontiacs, Chevys and Fords in table format. It was interesting.
If Al Gore is wondering the origin of The Inconvenient Truth, it could be the hundreds of thousands of fans admiring paper thin vehicles roar around and around and around.
I'm a speed junkie, and I know that NASCAR has grown in popularity. So I am doing a little mental math and thinking that CO2 might be rising in part due to the popularity of this gas-guzzling sport.
Talladega features some common stereotypes and some fun nontraditional casting. It's cool that the pit crew leader is the actor who played Kingpin. It's also cool to see the fools of a movie to be of the demographic of the majority in America. I laughed at a feast featuring a table filled with food that has led to the obesity of this nation. It was HILARIOUS to see a man bask in his own success beyond the ability to see anyone outside of himself. It was HILARIOUS to see his emotional breakdown in such a slapstick way.
I saw this and left the stress of orienting to my new job. I sat on the couch, letting my notes cover the coffee table and sipped Newcastle and ate a few slices of pizza.
Newcastle is a dark beer, a sweet beer. I have a terrible sweet tooth. When it was first offered to me, I denied it heartily, because I had to drive home. Then I aquiesed after having a slice of pizza and popcorn. I figured the carbohydrates would absorb any poison that would affect me.
I was wrong. Despite my eating a bowl of popcorn and 2 slices of 'za, I was a giggly mess by the end of the movie.
I was holding my need to use the rest room the last 15 minutes of the movie because I wanted to see it through. It was worth the wait, but I headed straight for the ladies' room at the end. My first beer run.
As I bounded down the steps, I was pleased to have enjoyed a silly comedy so much. When I returned to the lobby I asked my cohorts to accompany me to the coffee house. I was stalling so I could sober up. I knew I wasn't right to drive.
I had a pint of Newcastle total. Tops.
My dear river sister asked me if I would like her to drive me home. I pondered it. I wasn't yet straight from my cup of Numi mint tea. My slow brain response finally blurted, "Yes!" and I giggled. Both she and Bret were amused by my giddyness and verbalization of my sobriety state.
Bret would follow us to my house and she would then catch a ride with him.
So kind. So kind.
I chatted like a parrot in the car about the movie and work and about my car being stolen.
I kept sqwawking til we got to my house and she did a tremendous job parking the Mazda.
Hugs all around. They smiled at me.
I struggled with the key, but the lazy smile on my face figured out key IN lock and TURN!
I got in, slipped on my jammies and drank lots of water before I settled down for Mississippi River, a book that one of the classes I am working with is reading.
I settled down to the BBC's recount of the day's events.
I was going to bed...giggly, and dare I say: drunk.