This weekend I found myself doing something I do often: watching a movie with friends. But this wasn’t just any ordinary occasion. It was at a WPA after party with about 30 other people, and the movie we were watching was “Anchorman.”
Now, the reason this was both special and problematic was that I’m a movie buff. Not only am I a movie buff, but Anchorman was my movie. I named my dog Baxter after the one in the movie. I was Ron Burgundy for Halloween my freshman year. Naturally, I know every line. And when I say that, I mean I know every. Single. Line.
The movie started off as I whispered the opening dialogue to myself. I had barely gotten to “In other words, Ron Burgundy was the balls,” when my friend Connor slugged me in the leg. He threatened to do something very illegal if I didn’t stop. Not reciting the movie lines was to me like a smoker not lighting up a cigarette. It was pure torture.
What people don’t understand is that I just love movies. I always have. They take the viewer into a whole new world, where anything can happen. With my love of movies and somewhat good memory, I’ve become a walking movie encyclopedia. If I’ve seen the movie, all it takes is watching just a small clip, hearing a quote or even listening to the music in the credits and I can name the movie. My sister and I even developed a game to test this odd skill. One of us says a random quote from a movie and starts a countdown. If the other sibling doesn’t guess the movie in five seconds or less, the person who said the quote can hit the loser five times.
Movies are a wonderful escape from the stress and problems of reality, and they will always be a large part of my life.
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