Scavenger

"I'll have what she's having."

-- Rob Reiner's mother as a random cafe patron in When Harry Met Sally

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Part of why I don't like movies that were filmed in New York is that there are so many of them. I forget where I heard it, but someone said that every New Yorker thinks there's no place better than the Big Apple. And many New Yorkers work in film, or at least worked in theatre or television before making the leap, or they are writers, producers and directors.

Well, I've been to New York a few times, and it's loud and dirty. Like a big, wet fart. Or a prize pig. Every place is what you make it, and everyone's fart smells good to the perpetrator. And every county's fair is the best; every pig is some pig.

Watched When Harry Met Sally tonight with Teresa. The first time I've seen it in years. And not on TLC or something. Sadly enough, I kept thinking about mimetic theory, the desire of love you see but don't have. Not that--no, that's not what I meant--but I just found it interesting that every time Harry or Sally balked at romance, they killed time strolling the streets of New York, looking at couples hugging on the next corner and smooching to welcome in the New Year.

New Year's in New York: Another reason New York just doesn't really impress me. A large group of people always fails to impress me. (Part of why I remain suspicious of pop culture, Obama, and...I don't know...yoga, or something.)

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The other big reason I don't so much care for the NY films is that whenever I watch them with people who have been to New York, it feels like a scavenger hunt to which I was invited but in which I can't really participate.

"That scene we just watched--I've been there. In that cafe."

"Oh."

"It's a lot bigger than it looks in the movie."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They cleared out some of the tables so it would look smaller."

"Oh."

And so on.

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Don't get me wrong: Good movies have been made in New York. I like them.

And I'm sure that if I ever see a flick made in Edinburgh or the Philippines, I'll do the same.

"That street the drunk Scotsman just ran down? I've been on that street."

"Oh."

"Yeah, there's a Facebook picture of me and that statue. The one with the dog."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It had a lot more bird doo on it in real life."

"Oh."

And so on.

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Side notes:

- Dropped over $100 today in next-apartment purchases: A blue recliner with automann, two swanky lamps, a small skillet (new), and two end tables painted to look ancient. These came from thrift stores, and I paid no more than $13 for any single item.

- Got a five-buck haircut, the best I've had in months, for the lowest price (I think) ever. My receipt came with a coupon which promises three dollars off my next one, and so, if I time it right, I could get a two-buck chop.

- Checked out some good tunes from the library: Gordon Lightfoot, Big in Japan, the big Duke E., and a collection simply and amply named, "Paris." All new additions to the iTunes library--from their library to mine.

- Life of Pi just got really good. The ship sank. The tiger made it to the boat. The narrator despairs on the ocean, alone.

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I constantly desire that which I don't have. In that way, I am a perfect consumer cog in the machine of industry, and now, with job security and the promise of better pay and pad within weeks, I'm dropping dollars like a careless Rockefeller.

Which I'm not. In any way, shape or form.

Sometimes, it's best to refrain from the scavenger hunt. Hyenas laugh most, but lions have pride.