Enjoy the Magic of the Movies!

I love the B&B Theaters, a humble little Midwest chain of multiplexes, I really do. There's a lot to love, starting with the recliners that make it feel just like home! And the theaters are usually so empty you can scratch yourself just like at home, too! But, man, the B&B's are beginning to annoy me.

Take "Enjoy the Magic of the Movies," their catch phrase. A little bit goes a long way. Every employee says it and they try and say it with a straight face, too. 

Of course they never say it with any conviction either; it's always just kinda mumbled, under their breath as if they were sorely embarrassed by having to spout it and why shouldn't they be? I defy anyone to try and say "enjoy the magic of the movies" without doing a spit-take! Go on...say it in front of a mirror. I'll wait. See what I mean?

Every time these poor humiliated, minimum wage earners are clearly forced to utter this inane declaration (B&B Theater Employee Handbook, Rule 1.7, Subsection 17), I'm absolutely certain they question their life decisions in how they ended up here and wonder if it's not too late for college. Or the military.

I do remember one fresh-faced kid who actually tried to spout it like an overly-caffeinated Doug Henning. If memory serves me correctly, he even added a little magical hand flourish.

"Enjoy the MAAAAAAGIC of the movies!" Hand up, grinning ear to ear, he awaited my response.

So blown away by his strange, yet oddly endearing enthusiasm, after hearing it repeated on auto-pilot by so many other prior employees, I was at a loss for words. Finally, I mustered, "Thanks, um, you too."

I never saw this "magical boy" again. I imagine I caught him on his first day. Before desperation had set in and he quit, opting to go over to the competition where they didn't demand you spout such nonsense.

Now, keep in mind, just like every other retail outlet these days, the B&B theaters are woefully underemployed. There are no longer people working the ticket registers. Instead, you go directly to the concessions stand where four teens await to spread magic all over you. So that's one less time you'll have to hear "Enjoy the Magic of the Movies." That's something, at least.

But this underemployment is getting out of hand. It's to the point where you pretty much self-serve yourself the concessions. And when you're shelling out twenty bucks for a drink and popcorn, wouldn't a little service be nice? Nope. They hand you a cup and an unsalted, unbuttered bag of popcorn and point you toward the row of machines, which is a bonus layer of Hell.

Let's start with the "butter" machines (or that strange deep-urine yellow-colored thick oily substance that passes for butter). Out of eight butter machines, only two work. It's been that way forever. A couple of the non-functioning ones have been battered because some brute didn't get his quasi-butter. I would think they'd get some guy out to fix these butter machines. But apparently the Fake Butter Machinery Union guys are on strike. Not much magic there!

Then you need a road-map to operate the soda machines. There are about a thousand options (and this is an improvement over the old days when the only sugar-free option was Pepsi), but most of them taste like sickly sweet colored water. I tried a sugar-free grape option (gross!), a sugar-free cherry limeade option (even grosser!), and finally landed on a "Sprite Lymonade (which tasted like seltzer water, but at least it wasn't grotesque)." But getting there proved to be the real up-hill battle. 

The theater uses touch screen machines that're pretty stressful. The machine does not want to give you any time to make your decision because it's a big stupid-face bullying machine. There are unnecessary menus within menus and I felt lost in the labyrinth of sub-menus, with no way out. When I waffled, the screen bullied me into making an under-duress decision and snidely claimed, "I'm sorry, but your time is about up." Then it had to gall to show a ten second countdown timer. Like it was going to blow up if I didn't make a decision. In full-on panic mode, I caved in to machinery terrorism and landed on the Sprite Lymonade button, a choice I regretted later.

To make matters worse, before the movie started, the B&Ber's had the gall to taunt me with an advertisement about a man enjoying his time at one of the soda machines. With an expression of out-of-control ecstasy, he started hitting all sorts of buttons, proclaiming things like "Fresh," "Fun," and "Exciting!" He sped this up, deliriously happy, rocking it like a pinball machine, while animated stars and firecrackers and bunnies and crap exploded all around him. Then...wait for it..."Enjoy the Magic of the Movies!"

Well. That wasn't MY experience with the machine. I never remember seeing the "Orgasm" button, for instance.

But there was a bit of magic to be had during the film (a fairly routine horror film). During one the of the movie's nighttime "scary" moments, the screen went completely dark with the audio still rolling. My friend and I sat in the dark waiting for something to light up the screen. I said, "Um, I don't think it's supposed to be this way." My doubting buddy kept on, until he finally acquiesced. (Naturally, theaters in their never-ending quest for cost-cutting rendered projectionists obsolete years ago).

Or was it a truly innovative tour de force of movie-making ingenuity leaving the viewer to imagine unseen horrors for a ten minute stretch?

Either way, I call it...MAGIC!

While I have magic on the brain, there's a ton of it lurking around the more frightening perimeters in my book, Peculiar County. The tale of a Midwestern mortician's daughter and her dalliances with ghosts, a murderer, witches, and something creepy that takes flight in the night, it's as close as I'll ever come to writing "magical realism." (At least I think so...it's been quite a few years since I studied literature, so maybe I'm just full of it.) Be that as it may, feel free to visit haunting Peculiar County right about here!

Like a Phoenix...Tex, the Witch Boy Rises Again!

Being in high school sucks.

Oh, sure, I know it didn't suck for everyone, not the popular kids. But to me, high school was torturous, every day filled with bullies (of the student and teacher variety); cliques that snubbed me for ludicrous reasons based on status, sports, money, and privilege; the simultaneous joy and terror of possible burgeoning romance and the ensuing fear of rejection; and worst of all...dodge-ball, the most insidious trauma and physical pain inflicted on young boys.

All of these things are present in Tex, the Witch Boy. What is Tex, the Witch Boy, I hear you asking (or maybe that's the sound of your nodding off...I dunno, hard to tell through the intronets)? Anyhoo, I'm glad you asked! Tex, the Witch Boy is the very first novel I wrote and had published (I got spoiled; my very first submission turned into a pick-up). Unfortunately, the publisher went down and abandoned Tex amidst a sea of orphaned books.

Until now! The good folks at The Wild Rose Press have tossed Tex a life preserver, pulled him into dry, and have now republished his exploits!

I'm proud of this book. Not only is it my very first attempt at writing, but I did it on the sly. I didn't even tell my wife and daughter I was writing a book. You know...back to that fear of rejection thing. But apparently it worked. To this day, my wife still says the books one of her favorites.

Of course, it's highly autobiographical. It's me exorcising my high school demons. However...I'm not a witch, not like Tex is. Tex finds out in his sophomore year that he's inherited witch powers, which just complicates his already messed up high school life. Oh...and, yeah...there wasn't a mysterious serial killer roaming the halls of my high school (that I know of), knocking off bullies and others. Not like in the book.

But everything else is true (for the most part)! All of the bullying incidents either happened to myself or a friend of mine. To this day, one of my best friends still can't fully use three fingers on his hand (you'll have to read the book to see which incident I'm referring to). From the misfit teens who find one another, to the hard hawk-nosed authoritarian principal who picks on the underdog students, to the sadistic high school teacher, to the truly insane bullies, to the nerd who gloriously reigned on the skateboard, and the cool, rebel girl who everyone either feared or loved, they're all here, still fresh from my memories. (Or from my daughter's days in high school captivity).

And when I said that I was exorcising my high school demons? Tex, um, has his own exorcism to take care of. A much more frightening one. You'll see...

More importantly, I hope the book finds a wider audience as the powerful anti-bullying theme is just as pertinent today as to when I was in school in the late '70's. Parents need to be aware and teens need to know that things get better.

Hey! Watch the cool trailer video I had made years ago for Tex (just ignore the old cover and publisher)!

Even better news, The Wild Rose Press is picking up the other three books in the series, with the second one slated for September (but more on that when the day approaches).

As a first time writer, I crammed everything into this book: humor, mystery, love, suspense, horror, pathos, action...you know...kinda like uncertain, chaotic high school life. (If you read carefully, you'll even find a kitchen sink in there). By all indications, the meshing of all these genres shouldn't work. But ask the 51 critics and readers who've given it a 4.7 outta 5 rating on Amazon. Or even better, ask my wife (and the smart money is on never disagreeing with her!).

Ah, hell, make up your own mind. That's Tex, the Witch Boy, available here and other fine online retailers.