We lost it at the movies

A few weeks ago when we were in the Bay Area on vacation, we gave serious consideration to taking the boos to see their first movie in a theater -- Cars 2. But for various reasons it didn't work out and we thought that was probably fine, plenty of other things to do, no need to rush them to their first film.

But now we're back in Ridgecrest, where there's nothing to do. And another kids movie just came out -- Winnie the Pooh. And it's playing at the Ridgecrest Cinemas. So we decided to go see it.

We gave the boos plenty of warning, started talking about the movie about three days ago. This had the effect of scaring them, so that they started saying they didn't want to go to a movie, and it would be scary. "No, it will NOT be scary," I said crossly. "It's Winnie the Pooh! There is nothing scary about Winnie the Pooh!"

Still, we were all quite tense as we drove to the theater. The movie was to start at 1:20 and we got there at 12:50, in case there was a line. Ha ha. Actually there was a line -- there were 4 people in front of us, but they were a group and one person paid for all of them. So then it was our turn. "Two adults and two children for Winnie the Pooh," I said. The girl smiled at me. "Twenty-six dollars please." It costs $6.50 (adults and children) for a matinee at the Ridgecrest Cinemas. I have no idea how that compares to theaters elsewhere, having not gone to a movie in a theater in eons.

So now we had 30 minutes to kill. We went and looked at our theater -- Theater 4 -- it looked clean and pleasant and had absolutely no one in it. So we decided to buy some snacks. There were two snack counters. We went to the one closest to our theater, but there weren't very many people in line. To kill more time, we left and went to the other snack counter, which was busier. There I saw someone from my writing group and waved at her. "What are you seeing?" she asked me. "Winnie the Pooh?"

The line at that counter was TOO long, plus it had a bulk candy section that was attracting Baby A's attention, so we went back to the other counter and bought a sack of popcorn (with butter) and a box of Whoppers. Baby A insisted on carrying the Whoppers. Then there was nothing to do but go to our theater. We chose seats on the aisle, about halfway down. It was 12:55.

For the next twenty-five minutes we ate snacks, watched ads for various Ridgecrest businesses flash on and off the screen, and said "Shhhh" to the boos as they made loud comments about everything. They were concerned about their seats, which they were just barely heavy enough to hold open, the lights (whether or not they were on or not or would stay on or not), the projection booth, the snacks, and the other people who gradually filtered in.

Finally it was 1:20 and the movie started. Of course, first we had to watch several previews and the boos had no idea what the point of that was. "That's not Winnie the Pooh!" Baby A told me (loudly). "Shhhhh," I said. "Winnie the Pooh comes later."

After the previews there was a little cartoon about the Loch Ness monster. Very cute, but equally confusing to the boos. "That's not Winnie the Pooh!"

Finally the movie began. And within a few minutes I realized why Winnie the Pooh ISN'T the best choice for a movie for three-year-olds.

It's all about writing! And spelling! The whole Winnie the Pooh universe is all involved with jokes about how Pooh and the others can't read or spell very well. Think about "Trespassers Will" and all that. And of course all of that goes right over the boos' heads, since they can't read or spell even as well as Pooh and company. One of the major plotlines of the movie was about Christopher Robin leaving a note that ends "Back Soon" and Owl reading it as "Backson" which he says is an evil creature who has kidnapped Christopher Robin. Boos just didn't get that at all.

But they tried really hard. They were mostly very quiet and they mostly sat in their seats. Baby A ended up on Rocket Boy's lap. Baby B wandered around a bit, but he stayed in our aisle. And I ended up eating most of the popcorn. Do you know how many POINTS movie theater popcorn (with butter) is??? Argghh.

When the movie ended, of course we stayed for the credits, while almost everyone else immediately left. The lights came up, and the cleaning crew came in and started cleaning, and still the credits went on. Longest credits I EVER remember watching. When the cleaning crew started cleaning our aisle, we reluctantly got up and started to leave, but then I lingered at the back of the theater. I just can't bear not to watch all the credits. The cleaning crew had a loud, jokey discussion, back and forth across the theater, all about how there hadn't been a trash bag in the trash can. And still the credits went on.

And then suddenly the movie started again. I had been very puzzled by a line in the credits that said the Backson was played by Huell Howser. First of all, the Backson was a misunderstanding and therefore not played by anyone, and second, I was sure I would have noticed Huell Howser's voice if I'd heard it. But then all of a sudden here's the Backson and he's voiced by Huell Howser. Hilarious! Best part of the movie, in my opinion. Even though I could hardly hear it, due to the cleaning crew.

Oh Ridgecrest.

Anyway, if you happen to go to this movie, stay for the credits.

Trail of 100 Giants

I have been neglecting this blog of late, busy of course, and just generally feeling kind of down. This is always the problem with delightful vacations. You come back home and there's real life again and your face and mood just sag. Of course it isn't like that for the twins -- it's been a week and already I think they barely remember their nice vacation, except for the fact that they keep suggesting that we visit either "Baba's house" or "Mitzi's house."

Oh, and today when we were walking on a road with no sidewalks, Baby A told Baby B, sternly, that he should "Walk on the white line, like Mason!" (This is in reference to walks that we took with Baba's dog Mason.) So maybe they do remember, sort of. But every day they wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, nothing sagging, all ready to make a puzzle, play with the water table, or beg me to re-do their toy train track setup yet again.

So, in that spirit, today we decided to pick up our saggy selves and go on a journey to the Trail of 100 Giants, which is a short, pleasant, nature walk among the Giant Sequoias in Sequoia National Forest. Rocket Boy was hopeful we would see a bear. I told the boos we were going to see some big trees, and Baby B said "at Baba's house?"

First we took Highway 178 for an hour and 15 minutes to Kernville.

We stopped at the nice riverside park in Kernville and, get this, ATE A PICNIC LUNCH! Yes, that's right, we didn't go to a restaurant! I can't even think when we last did this. It always seems too hard to figure out what to bring. But this time we were so brilliant. We brought hard-boiled eggs, a bag of those little babybel cheeses, a container of hummus, baby carrots, crackers, muffins, and cherries. It was fabulous. Everyone ate what they wanted, nobody got upset. I'm still in shock about how awesome it was.

Then we packed up and continued on our journey northwest, on a winding road that followed the Kern River. After about an hour we came upon a car parked by the side of the road with its hood up, accompanied by two women and two young boy scouts in uniform, who waved us down. "Maybe they see a bear!" Rocket Boy said, pulling over. But no. "Are you with Troop XYZ?" they asked us.

We said no, we weren't, and they said oh, OK. We were about to drive on, when Rocket Boy thought to ask "Do you need help?" It turned out their rental car had died on them and they were trying to get to a boy scout camp a few miles up the road. So we asked if we could drive one of them there to get help (with the two carseats, you can only squeeze one extra person into our car). One of the women agreed to come, so we drove her to the camp. All the way there (it took MAYBE 10 minutes) she thanked us profusely and offered us money, which we declined. When we reached the camp, the older boy scouts who were organizing everyone took charge of her, thanked us profusely, and sent us on our way. As she got out of the car, the woman put a bill in my cup holder and said "I insist." As we drove on our way I looked at the bill -- it was a $20. For a 10-minute detour. Maybe 15 minutes total. We were horrified.

On the other hand, I can see how this might be a way to make money -- drive around the mountains helping stranded motorists who then insist on paying you.

So we continued on our way and eventually reached the Trail of 100 Giants. It's very popular. The mile-long trail is wheelchair- and stroller-accessible. We walked maybe 3/4 of the trail, cutting off one section because the twins were getting tired. But it was fun.

It's hard to photograph a Giant Sequoia because they are, well, giant, many in this grove over 200 feet tall. You can only get a bit of one in a picture.

At home this week, quite by coincidence, we have been reading a neat library book called Hurricane by David Wiesner, about a big tree falling in some kids' yard during (you guessed it) a hurricane, which they play on for a few days until it's removed. I tried to make the connection for the twins, both on the trail and then at home tonight when we were reading the book again ("See, here's a big tree that fell down, like in the book about the hurricane"/"See, this fallen tree in the book is like the trees we saw today") but I'm not sure it took. It must be hard to be three, so many things to absorb and process.

On the other hand, they are becoming better photographers. Baby A took this photo of his parents and brother.

After the trail, we drove west for another hour or so, on a very winding road, to look at a hot springs (but didn't go in), and then we drove all the way home, stopping at a cafe in Kernville for "dinner" (cookies and scones), which we paid for with the stranded woman's $20 bill.

We never did see a bear, but on the winding road to and from the hot springs, we kept running into (almost literally) cows. It's very odd to be on a remote mountain road, no meadows anywhere, and suddenly have to hit the brake because there's a cow in front of you. Black cows, red cows, multicolored cows. Very odd. Didn't get a pic, sorry.

Anyway, nice trip, nice weekend. I'm feeling a little less saggy now.