I Saw E.T. 14 Times - IN THE THEATER!

RE-POST FROM AUGUST 21, 2009



Remember when you were a kid, if you liked a movie, you had to see it over and over again. If you didn't, you weren't a true fan. You'd memorize every single line and could easily recite the script along with your friends. What happened to those days? Why doesn't this matter to most of us anymore?

I think back to the films I saw in the theater. Often it was summer cinema when school was out and movies were like $4 and popcorn was like $2 - and we thought that was pricey back then. Our moms would get rid of us for a few hours. Back then it was safe to just get dropped off at Sunrise Cinemas on Sunrise Highway. Today, not so much.

We'd brag about how many times we saw our favorite film. In my case, this was especially true for E.T., Karate Kid, Goonies and Footloose. Ironically, I had crushes on the lead kid in every movie from Henry Thomas to Ralph (he was from LI and we shared the same b'day!) to Sean Astin (I had an inhaler like his character Mikey!) and Footloose - Kevin Bacon - wow! Thanks to Footloose, I discovered hair mousse. I had read in Seventeen magazine about this brand new hair product called "mousse," you cold manipulate your hair to appear spiky, just like Wren's in Footloose!

For Christmas of 1982, I had to have an E.T. sleeping bag, sheets and bedding, snack tray, posters, figurines, the board game, cup and plate set, and much more. I still have some of those items. I loved them all so much. I remember counting all of my E.T. things, writing them down in a notebook and admiring them all for days over the holiday break from school.

I loved The Goonies more than any of my friends to the point where I even slipped a mini tape recorder into the theater with me. I recorded the audio and listened to it repeatedly for days and days until I had every line down pat, "...This is my dream, my wish, and it didn't come true, so I'm takin' 'em back, I'm takin' 'em all back!" I remember Corey Feldman's lines like it was yesterday. Too bad I didn't have a memory like that when it came to science and history. I'd be a top scholar!

As an adult, the only film I've seen an excessive amount of times would have to be Rushmore. I know pretty much every line, own the soundtrack and DVD, and I still laugh at all of the same scenes.


By the fall, I still loved ET and my mom threw me an ET Halloween birthday party complete with her best shot at an ET shaped cake. I dressed up like Gertie did on Halloween and went as a cowgirl.

New Year's Eve of Yesteryear

When I was a kid, I loved New Year's Eve much more than I do now. It was so awesome! Until about the age of 11, my family and grandparents would drive into Kew Gardens to visit my great aunt and uncle. Kew Gardens isn't very far, but back then it was like another time zone. We'd park on what seemed like a Manhattan city street and take an elevator up a few flights to Aunt Marcy & Uncle Henry's apartment.

Most of the people we knew lived in suburban houses. It was strange visiting someone in an apartment. New York City apartment buildings were much different than houses. They were kinda like hotels minus the soda, snack and ice machines. I would try to stand perfectly still for a few seconds and inhale the various aromas found in city apartment buildings. I would play this secret game with myself and identify the different scents.

City-style apartment buildings always have an undeniable aroma of bleach or cleanser often combined with ethnic foods, coffee and floral perfumes. It's not a particularly bad thing, but to me it's the epitome of city apartment living. I remember this same exact scent as it followed me to my minuscule Chelsea studio twenty years later. It also followed me whenever I would visit friends at their apartments in Brooklyn and around Manhattan.

Memories of New Year's Eve in Kew Gardens are far from thrilling, but to this kid, it was pure excitement. We never owned Connect Four, but my aunt did. My little brother and I would play Connect Four for hours and despite who won, my brother and I would repeat the famous, "Pretty sneaky sis!" line from the 1981 commercial every time. I could recite that commercial verbatim.



Aunt Marcy was the perfect hostess. She always made sure to serve up a delicious array of traditional snacks. Chilled sodas flowed freely throughout the evening. We'd feast on celery sticks with classic Lipton's Onion Soup Mix dip, pigs in blankets, chips and antipasto. Ah, Italians and their antipasto. Each salty bite tasted better than the next. My brother and I would lay on our stuffed little bellies, gripping couch pillows atop a neutrally-colored carpet. Anxiously we waited near the TV for the final 60 second countdown with Dick Clark.

My older relatives doled out pots and wooden sticks for us to bang and yell, "Happy New Year!" We'd laugh ourselves silly as Grandpa always took it a step further. Throwing the window open, he'd stick his arms and head into the frigid January air, and bang two pot tops together that sort of resembled oddly-shaped, mismatched cymbals. He had this two-finger-whistle which became his trademark noisemaker - he'd bust it out at our birthday celebrations as well. It sometimes scared the younger grandkids who weren't yet used to loud shrill noises. We'd often try to imitate that beloved whistle, but nobody could get it right.

I'm not sure why we stopped partying with Aunt Marcy and Uncle Henry in Kew Gardens. Maybe we simply outgrew it. I think we spent a few Christmas holidays in Florida, unintentionally breaking up the tradition. Sometimes my grandparents would host a similar get together at their house. One thing I do remember, was that Grandma would serve Bugles at her New Year's Eve parties. Be it a Frito or a Bugle, Grandpa loved his corn chips - I swear that man never met a corn chip he didn't like.

This year my mom's going to Connecticut to celebrate with my grandma, aunt, uncle and cousin. Deep down, I wish I was going. I would love to relive those family moments I remember from the early '80s. I would love to sit around with my family playing board games and eating salty snacks until our bellies hurt. Sadly my grandpa has since passed on, but we could bang pots and pans and keep his New Year's Eve spirit alive. I bet my uncle even knows how to whistle with his two fingers. He's from Alberta, Canada - that seems like something Canadian dudes would know how to do. Right? They're fun, lively people. Maybe next year.

How about you? What was your New Year's Eve like as a kid?

As always, thanks for listening.

Words Hurt More Than Sticks & Stones

I’ve always wanted to be that person who doesn’t care about certain things. The person who shrugs sh*t off easily and doesn’t remember different conversations and comments for years to come.

I remember my first year at summer camp. Our troop was walking to the lake and this cruel gaggle of girls were walking behind me and loudly making fun of my shorts and sneakers. I had gone to camp with whom I thought was a good friend, she turned out to be just as mean as the other chicks. I was alone to fend for myself against these creepy snobs. Needless to say I switched camps the next year and made sure I didn’t invite my "bestie" gal pal to tag along.

Fast forward to seventh grade. My friend Serena and I were meeting up for a slice of pizza with our friends, Danny and Sean – the least “threatening” boys anyone could ever meet.

When we returned from our brief outing, her mother went completely ballistic on us. I honestly couldn’t figure out why. What did we do wrong? My mom always let me hang out with Danny and Sean.

She called me a "tart" and told my mother how we went to meet boys. I always remember that day and her screaming, “You are a tart!” And me thinking a tart was gay but what’s gay about meeting boys?

I had a crush on Pat in college. I had always wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Finally one night it happened while watching a movie. His reaction? “Wow, just like I thought! It’s like as if I were kissing my sister.” The only positive thing about that response was that he did not actually have a sister.

Another awesome memorable comment happened a few years later. I was at my college boyfriend’s home getting ready for a wedding he had invited me to. I had recently lost a significant amount of weight. (Wow, do I miss phentermine, the wonder drug.) In an attempt to compliment me, my boyfriend’s mom poked at me and said, “Ohmigod, you lost so much weight! Look, you actually have a waist!” A few weeks later he told me that she told him, “You better start losing weight yourself or else she’s going to leave your ass in the dust.” He jumped to it and lost like an astonishing 40 lbs in 30 days and I believe we broke up soon after that massive confidence boost.

So many things people have said to me over the years stay with me like a mental fungus I can't cure. I wish I knew how to rid my memories of these incidents. I often wonder if anyone else out there remembers the many dumb things people have said to them and feel the same way. Why do words cut so deep? Why are people so effin harsh? Do they know they’re jerks – who lets them get away with this? My dad actually once told me that the meanest people have the most friends. Funny thing is, I always thought that was true in high school. They really did. The nice kids were considered band nerds or the smart kids.

Today in fact, this came up in conversation with a coworker. She was feeling a little sensitive about something. I mentioned someone we both know and said, “Now what would she do if that happened to her?” I knew the answer, but wanted to hear her say it. Her reply was something along the lines of, “That person would just simply roll with it… ‘Oh well, such is life,’ is what she would say and wouldn’t think another thing of it." That must be so awesome! I think that individual was born this way. I don’t think you can learn to be a cool cucumber type who dances through life ignoring cruel people or cruel words. I envy her. I would love to wake up one day and live life the way she does. She’s so positive and upbeat, doesn't let anyone break her. It’s almost inspirational.