Too Much of a Good Thing

     In any normal circumstance, scoring a seat on row 1 for a recreational activity is like a gift from above. It usually requires waiting in lines for hours to days, preparation, fame, or a lot of money. Only two times in my life have I been bummed to sit in the front row and they both have been at the movie theater. Titanic and Just Go With It. Seriously, Just Go With It, seriously? Like are you SERIOUS? What was it, acclaimed as the next Academy Award winning movie?!?!? Nope. . . . .but it was pretty darn funny and cute. My point is the front row can be a great thing, but sometimes good things, though it can be rare, turn out to be too much of a good thing.
     I'm sure you're well aware of my ongoing love and appreciation for photography. I love taking pictures, posing for pictures, and looking at other people's pictures. But speaking of circumstantial happiness, I got the raw end of photographic technology yesterday. I received a suspicious looking envelope in the mail from the police station and although I normally wait a good week or so to open my mail, I was feeling enticed enough to sneak a peek right away. Unfortunately, it confirmed my suspicion that I may have run a red light 2 weeks ago. What a downer! I was headed home in a daze after a couple of long night shifts and while mentally slapping and kicking myself for being retarded enough to stop at a flashing yellow light, I proceeded to drive through the flashing red light with my eyes focused on the green light a block ahead. Very confusing, I know! It registered in my brain what may have happened post incident, and although it may be one of the fastest and dumbest ways of spending a quick $75, I'm just thankful neither myself nor the car was injured (Even though it was a holiday weekend day at the butt crack of dawn and no one was on the road except for this loony toon!). Photography is great, but when it backs you into a corner with blackmail and costs you un-foresighted expenses, it sucks! Hence, too much of a good thing.
     On the topic of movies, stupidity, and misfortunate events, Patrick and I watched 127hrs last night over dinner. It was a great method to not over eating, because as soon as he smashed his arm between the bolder and rock wall, my stomach immediately knotted from grief and nervousness for the poor sap. I had previously been worried that watching a guy alone in the desert mountains cut his arm off for 1.5 hours may be slightly short of entertaining, but it creatively kept my mind engaged! I always wonder if I am ever forced into a similar situation: would I have the willpower and balls to fight through it tooth and nail, or would I let the sadness and hysteria take over and die in my own tears of pitty? It was a weird feeling to know how the movie was going to play out, and still feel the hopelessness for him. And although it's bittersweet, through the great loss of his arm, what a gift he must have to be able to more thoroughly appreciate the people in his life now, and have a deeper understanding of his self in hindsight of such an extreme situation and suffering. In the end, I was so happy for him, I cried a little (just with my left eye). I told Patrick, if it was me, I would want to go back and get my arm so I could have a burial service for it. I really mean that too. I officially recomend this movie to everyone; it moved me. So yeah, the great outdoors is amazing and peaceful in so many ways, and being by yourself sometimes has its perks, but in this situation it turned into too much of a good thing.