Night Life

Boy, is it ever. I'm a pretty curious, exploratory kind of person. I like to go and find out about things I didn't know about before, try things I know I'm not good at (yet), see things I haven't seen, etc., etc. This is a good thing, I believe, but it can rear its ugly side from time to time in the form of restlessness when I should really just be settling down. I have determined, though, that if I ever start having complaints about the job I have now, I am nothing short of the world's biggest ingrate. I won't bore you/make you jealous with all the details, but here's a basic rundown:
I am a university instructor teaching basic composition. I have incredibly fun and highly capable students, a course that interests me, and three sections of the same course, which means a much lighter load when it comes to planning. Everything is going well with my students and the actual class periods. And here's the kicker, the point of all of this, and how it ties in to my fortune cookie: in my incredibly light work hours, I don't begin until 2:45 in the afternoon, and I'm done by 7 PM. (I know you all hate me, and I'm sorry.) Last night is just one of a string of examples of why this schedule works well for me, the guy who's always stayed up late and been at my most productive and enjoyable after sunset.
I went with a couple of my students and a few of their friends to Buffalo Wild Wings last night a little after 7. Somewhere between our server Gina and the kitchen, our food took basically forever to get to us. She was really nice, attentive with the drinks, etc., and I don't know exactly what the deal was, because she seemed more or less on the ball. Anyway, in the long wait time we had, we were playing the trivia game on the little Playmaker you can get there. If you've been, you know what I'm talking about. (If you haven't, shame on you, because Buffalo Wild Wings is awesome.) One of the questions was "What was Elvis Costello's first certified platinum-selling record?" The answer, of course, is My Aim is True, which I answered before the choices even showed up. I warned them not to sic the music trivia on me. Anyway, I had Elvis Costello stuck in my head for the remainder of the evening, which ended up being ironic later on, and that's why I share the whole trivia part of the tale with you.
After dinner, I headed over to continue my search for a couple of CD's that were recently, um, confiscated in a government operation. This is how I've decided to refer to the recent incidents, since it makes me sound cooler than being the victim of random property theft. I got to Best Buy eight minutes after they closed. Because the night life is not for all people, only those with the right fortune cookie, places like Best Buy can get away with closing at the practically-sunrise time of 9 PM. I went over to Target and managed to find two CD's ('X&Y' and 'Dookie'), but still left without the two I was most interested in replacing ('We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes' and 'Talkie Walkie'). Right as I was looking at a CD of Air Supply's greatest hits (they always catch you at the worst times!), I hear, "Oh my gosh, it's Kent Walter!" My friends Chris Misiano and Brian Shesko and their girlfriends Allison (that's the ironic part I mentioned earlier) and Dayna, respectively, were stocking up on candy before the 10 PM showing of "Batman Begins." Brian heard I was replacing CD's and went through the music section making ridiculous suggestions of what must have been taken. "Oh, here it is. The Kenny Chesney Collection." "La Bouche's greatest hits. It's a shame that's gone." He brought me "Hysteria" by Def Leppard and offered me a rousing version of "Pour Some Sugar On Me" right there in Target's music section, but I told him that that one was, fortunately for me, not in my car when everything went down and was consequently not stolen. It also was not in my house. Or on loan to anyone. Or, in fact, in my possession in any way. So I was doubly fortunate: I didn't have "Hysteria" stolen, and I don't own it either. I can die happy.
After remarking on the lameness of Target's clearance candy section (84 cents is still a little steep for a Wonka bar, given the size of those things, and who wants a collector's tin of Bratz Starstruck Marshmallows, even for two dollars?), we headed over to Movies 10 and took in the awesome spectacle that is "Batman Begins." If you don't think that this is the best super hero movie ever made, you are a ridiculous person. And that's the bottom line. I don't even have time go into it all. Christian Bale went from like six pounds in "The Machinist" to pretty much a beast for this movie, the acting was great, the moral questions and lessons are incredible, the whole storyline is full of great character drama, and if all of that, as well as a thousand other things, didn't make this film ludicrously stacked, it has Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman in it. By now, with the string of incredible films he's done, and this movie on top of it all, Morgan Freeman has become not just a legend but an adjective as well. "Dude, that was so Morgan Freeman." is both a perfectly acceptable sentence and a high compliment. (This is a comandeered idea.) We can more than forgive the guy for the occasional "Dreamcatcher" or "Edison." He's playing Nelson Mandela pretty soon, for crying out loud. The guy deserves a medal. If you haven't seen "Batman Begins" for some reason, complete your humanity by seeing it. You'll be glad you did.
I drifted far from the initial point of this, which was to say that my fortune cookie was pretty darn insightful. The freedom to go see a movie that ends at 12:30 AM on no advance notice is a privilege that not every employed person has. I better not take it for granted. Or I would be an ingrate.
Other, shorter observations: Thrice will soon take over the world, and Coldplay already has. Goldfish still make the world go round. I need seating. More on that one another time.
Take care of yourselves, everyone, leave a message, do something today that will outlast you, and have a great day.