Week 87: ATV 6x6

Check out the crunching above -- my tiny all terrain vehicle is rolling over cars and taxis on-site in Cleveland, Ohio during last year's filming of the movie The Avengers (parts of the film were shot downtown). While my Matchbox car has been superimposed on the background, the setting is the real deal, shot by photographer Phil Pekarcik during the filming.

I didn't get to watch any of the filming of that movie, but did for Spiderman 3 in 2007. I took my oldest son, a teenager at the time, Racer Z and Racer A, then a baby. That was a fun, but not exciting, time; I had no idea how much time is spent standing around. It was like watching a construction crew on a road-paving project, with people leaning, talking, and holding "Slow" signs -- that is if one of the road crew had been dressed in tights and occasionally swung from a lamp post.

Don't misunderstand. I 1.) loved watching the movie production process, and 2.) never want to see a road crew in tights.

The family went to see The Avengers at the drive-in this past weekend, although I was out of town so didn't get to go. Here in Geauga County we are lucky to have one of the few remaining drive-in theaters nearby. There is a vintage charm to the drive-in experience, an event sometimes better in retrospect. While actually there, you may need to deal with cranky kids, spilled juice, garbled sound or a difficult to see screen, but later, you kind of forget about the irritations.  I am a huge fan of the drive-in, and even though I wasn't there for The Avengers (my wife said Baby G had a full fledged whining attack for the first half of the movie), I had a great time, comforted that the drive-in was there, even if I wasn't.

Last year we took the kids to see Iron Man II. The night was warm, but soon into the movie it began raining, so we needed to run the windshield wipers. Between the radio (which is how you get the sound) and the wipers, the battery went dead. My wife asked (I remember it as demanded, but she tells me my memories are off), that I find a jump start. Oh boy.

I took off wandering around in the dark and the rain, looking for anyone outside of their vehicle, but the only people out in the rain are teenage and pre-teen girls, and I wasn't about to approach them in the dark and ask for a jump. I continued to wander around for seven minutes or more (which translates into an emotional perception of two or more days) and became progressively more soaked, progressively more uncertain as to how to proceed, and in all likelihood progressively more creepy to the families watching the movie. I could hear the click of the electric locks as I walked by.

More importantly, I was missing the movie, so at least once as I hobbled down the aisle Quasimodo style by I turned to see the screen only to trip over a pile of gravel. I personally think stumbling to the ground added a nice touch to my creepiness factor. "Thanks for the jump, lady. Hey, thanks for the jump. Heh heh heh."

Eventually I wnet to the concession stand, oddly teeming with people even though I never saw anyone walking there as if they all just materialized Star Trek transporter style. I felt awkward trying to snag someone leaving the stand, especially since everyone leaving was moving  fast to avoid the rain and they all seemed quite serious about getting to their chili dogs. Because of the crowd, I wasn't sure I wanted to squeeze past and bother someone at the stand, either, which could have potentially turned ugly. Never stand between a hungry man and his chili dog.

Finally, an attractive woman approached me, 30 something and self assured, and asks if my battery went dead. I answer yes, and she tells me she could tell by the way I was nervously hovering around the concession stand. Before I realized that meant I probably looked stupid, she explained her battery also went dead and told me to wait. She effortlessly was able to flow through the crowd to find a theater worker to come out with a portable battery starters. Easy peasy.

As it turns out, many batteries went dead that night. I'm not sure how this woman made everything so easy while I made everything so difficult, but she did. She didn't even look drenched or even mildly creepy, but in the end I ultimately was responsible for getting the car started, right?

I've made this blog lengthy so hopefully my wife will get interrupted by a hungry pre-schooler before she  reaches the end and finds out I actually didn't solve the jump start issue.

If you've made it this far, remember -- it's our little secret, and if you're out Chardon way, maybe we'll see you at the Mayfield Road Drive-in!