Thursday, 12 June 2008

Musing: Old News

I’m living in the past. I’m a bit ashamed to admit it. My clothes are old, I spend a lot of my free time reminiscing and waxing nostalgic about what I did last week, and I’m constantly revisiting past conversations with boys. Worst is that I’m a month behind on all horror movie related news.

It struck me this morning what a terrible thing this is. I was reading Rue Morgue and learned that one of my favourite stage actors (I am that pretentious) was starring in a stage version of Misery.

“Dammit, that’s aweseome!” I said out loud. Thankfully I was alone at the time and was saved from having to explain why watching Tom McCamus get his foot cut off would be so cool. “Crap, I can’t see it!” I exclaimed when I saw the dates and realized that it wouldn’t be showing in August, when I’m back in town. I continued talking to myself, “I’ll get Dan to go.”

And then I thought maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. The last time I asked Dan for a similar favour, it worked out great for Dan, but not so well for me. All he had to do was go to the con, meet Paul Dini, and give my love to Mr. Lordi. Dan did go to the con but whatever he did there didn't involve granting any of my very reasonable requests. While weighing the pros and cons of charging Dan with standing in for me a second time (regardless of whether he actually likes the theatre) my eyes happened once again on the performance dates.

The damn thing was in May. Curse my rotten luck! I forgot I was reading a month-old magazine. But that's what happens when you live in England.

Not pictured: Rue Morgue June 2008

Friends--I have such lovely wonderful friends--have offered in the past to get me a subscription. I have always declined. Good western capitalist that I am, I see no harm in periodically indulging in a bit of retail therapy, and I really like to go to the store and buy it myself. It gets me out of the house. Also, the last time someone got me a magazine subscription as a “gift” I wound up receiving, delivered straight to my mailbox, New Zealand Pig Hunter.

I remember a time when I could amaze everyone with my wealth of current horror movie industry knowledge. Now all I can talk about is how best to train your pig-dogs. Which is wasted, wasted on the Brits.

Rue Morgue has never steered me wrong*. They were bang on the money with Giant Killer Shark: The Musical, and it's a real bummer I won't get to/never got to see Misery. I'll tell Dan about it anyway and try to make him feel badly that he will miss/has missed out on doing (or not doing) me another big favour.

Dan's a vegetarian.

* Except for that one time when they steered me wrong.

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