Let the Right One In

Though I've been staunchly anti-car ownership for ten years, I have to admit to borrowing cars a lot. This makes me annoying.You know how there was that one kid you grew up with who got all Money is Evil/Rich People Suck and then when you hang out and the bill comes, he's like, "You got it?" Gr! Well, I'm not that bad.

I gas up the cars I use and sometimes go to car washes but owning them ticks me off because cars break and there's more bills and I have to look for parking and call people assholes 10x more than usual and that just puts me in a bad mood.

I'd rather be like the Silverlake walking man who reads the paper while walking 15 miles a day around his LA neighborhood, minus the 59 types of skin cancer and unwanted attention I'd get if I walked around shirtless.

Having said that, when my mom goes out of town I'm the first one grabbing her car keys to use the Honda while she's gone. And when there's a good reason, or, conversely, absolutely no reason at all, I love a road trip.

Example: I recently drove 100 miles to get my hair cut. Why? Because a two-hour drive sounded nice. My brain empties out over long stretches of open highway and it's easier to hit that perfect hyper to zen ratio at 70mph. I can belt out Tina Turner, ponder my existence, connect the dots of what it means to be human and arrive for my cut and color in a benign state. Also, I got to say hi to Bova in Columbus, which is added value.

Last weekend Matthew and I drove 100 miles in the other direction, to Louisville, to see a movie.

There were several levels of awesome to this road trip. We stayed in the Brown Hotel which made me feel fancy. We saw Let the Right One In, which hadn't yet opened in Cincinnati, and when we got to Louisville we realized the film was playing at the university's Student Activity Center, not 100 yards away from Matthew's former dorm room.

When the guy at the box office asked if we are students, I said, "Yeeeahhh," in a bored over-it collegiate voice to which he replied, "That'll be three dollars." TOTAL FOR BOTH TICKETS. Dude, if you only knew I am approaching middle-age and am headed back to the Brown Hotel after this and not back to the dorm to drink Natural Ice and give myself homemade piercings!

Guillermo del Toro called Let the Right One In a chilling fairy tale and that is accurate. It was stunning and Swedish and made me want to gag a few times because I don't like watching people drink blood. After vampire films, I always ask Matthew if he thinks there really are vampires and he says, "I hope so," and I feel nervous.

This time was different because I wasn't the only one who squirmed. Let the Right One In had this whole scene where the protagonist, Oskar, brushes his teeth playfully with his mom. And seeing people brush their teeth is the ONE thing in the world that gives Matthew the creeps. So while he freaked over the noise of the bristles and went fetal in his seat, I got to point and laugh at him, which made me feel good.

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