Dear Moviegoers,

Could you kindly explain exactly what in the hell is wrong with most of you? Do you feel that the movie theatre is somehow an extension of your own private living room? Do you feel that the $11 or $12 you paid for admission grants you special privileges?

I, for one, did not pay my money at the door to come watch the movie with your running feature commentary. Is it really that difficult to quiet yourself for the couple hours of film running time? Perhaps you need some sort of medication to help control what appears to be a mild case of tourretes that is triggered by moving pictures on a screen.

While I appreciate that you want to make sure that we all heard what the characters said, I can assure you my hearing is fine and that I understood the dialogue the first time. It really isn’t necessary that you parrot it back at the screen. I also do not need clarification on what just happened as I was there and watching the film with you and have a comprehension level that ranks somewhere above that of a three year old.

To the parents who have decided to attend the theatre, I applaud your devotion to bringing young minds to witness the art form that is the feature film. However, I’m not sure that your five year old truly needs to have the nightmares and possible years of therapy that come from watching a gore-filled horror movie which was clearly created with more mature viewers in mind. I also don’t feel that your child’s interactive screaming does much for my immersion in the film.

I know how busy our lives can be, and how dependent we have become on technology to give us important updates and keep our communications running strong. Far be it from me to deny you what must certainly have been a very important phone call or Twitter update, but I would be ever so grateful if you could take it outside. Ringtones very rarely fit with the theatrical score of the film, and the dramatic lighting of your face by the screen of your phone would be better suited for telling a campfire tale.

Please understand how grateful I am that you wish to ensure that I stay awake through the entire movie, but is it truly necessary to kick the back of my seat to make sure I’m still conscious? I also don’t believe that I am in any need of posture correction even though you try so hard to push my seat forward with not one, but both of your feet.

In conclusion, I would like to thank each and every one of you for your efforts in making my movie going experience more and more annoying. With any luck I will one day be finally driven to the edge and the blood bath that will follow will earn me the 15 minutes of fame that I so desperately crave. I hope you will be there on that day to witness the glory shortly before I rend your head from your shoulders and drop it in your tub of popcorn.

All My Love,

-Macabri

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The prolific Mr. Bradbury.

The first time I read Fahrenheit 451 was sometime in middle school. It was not my first encounter with the works of Ray Bradbury, but it was definitely one of the most jarring ones. This was a story I could see coming true, and it seems closer to reality every day.

I find the most common problem these days isn’t that people can’t read, it’s that they don’t want to read. They don’t want to read anything work related let alone read for pleasure. It’s much easier to turn on the television and let someone do the thinking for you.

One of the most common examples of a disinterest in reading that I deal with is when I send out a work related e-mail that spells out all the details of something, then people completely ignore it only to immediately ask me a question that was already answered. The longer the e-mail I send, the less chance someone will take the time to read it; no matter how important it is. I’m sure many of you have experienced how this works. It’s as if they expect you to cater to their short attention span because a few paragraphs are too grueling to read in their entirety.

We live in a society where if there’s a book series children actually read, it’s newsworthy. I was brought up in a household where reading was encouraged and I developed a deep love of the written word early on. I would read two or three books simultaneously. I’d have a book I was reading at home, a book I was reading at school, and sometimes a third book for a certain class period. While I’ve been slacking off on my novel reading lately (due to an extremely busy schedule), I still have three or four books that I’m working my way through. Beyond that, I read a lot of other things when I can such as blogs, Wikipedia entries, news stories, and other published items.

When it comes to reading at work, I try to be very careful to take note of everything that is sent to me. I rarely ask questions that I’ve already given the answers to. It’s important to me to be accurate and be on top of things in the workplace. I take pride in what I do and part of doing a job well is investing yourself in every element of it, even those that aren’t that fun. I honestly can’t think of any job I’ve ever had where reading didn’t play its part.

Reading is how you find out what you’re entitled to when you fill out a contract at a job. It’s how you know what the rules are. It’s how you gain a lot of information that you couldn’t have obtained first-hand. You are doing yourself a favour by reading and a notable disservice by not.

If you must, take it in small steps. Read a blog, maybe sign up for the Word of the Day at Dictionary.com, read a comic book for crying out loud. Then again, if you don’t read it’s likely you’ll never see this blog and I’m just spinning my wheels.

Fahrenheit 451 may seem like an extreme example in a cautionary tale, but I’m keeping my eyes peeled for “firemen”.

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Indy is not amused.

Hey, do you remember that scene in Indiana Jones? You know, in The Last Crusade when he throws those guys out the window and announces “No ticket.”? Yeah, that scene. That’s exactly what I think retailers should be able to do when you don’t have your ID.

Okay, maybe I don’t want people thrown out of the window (yes I do), and maybe the comparison seems a little harsh. Seriously though, is it that hard to have a photo ID with you? After having worked the many years in retail that I did, and after having my identity stolen TWICE, I’m a little twitchy about the whole thing. I cannot tell you how many customers yelled at me because I had the audacity to ask to see their ID.

Let me break this down for you:

• No photo…

…means no ID. You could’ve swiped anyone’s credit card and claimed that it was your own. If it just has your name on it, it doesn’t count.

• I shop here all the time…

…Good for you. Just because you shop here all the time doesn’t mean every employee automatically knows who you are. Contrary to popular belief, you can’t always get by on your charming good looks.

• Why do you need to see my ID?

Firstly, why is it such a big deal? Are you hiding something? Are your poor fingers too tired from shopping to do so much as lift out your ID? Secondly, it’s called identity theft. If someone was using your card and it wasn’t you, wouldn’t you be pissed that no one bothered to check for ID?

• I’ll bring it next time…

…Sure you will. (I seriously had someone tell me this while working retail.)

• I forgot it…

…To be fair this happens once in a while to all of us. However, there are a lot of chronic cases of forgotten ID. As the daughter of two nurses, one of which used to work in the ER, let me say what a bad idea this is. Worse case scenario: you’re out walking and get hit by a truck. You are completely incapacitated. You can’t talk, nod, blink, nothing. You get to have a nice trip to the hospital where they will check you in as John or Jane Doe until someone figures out that you must have been on an awfully long walk, perhaps too long, and bothers to look for you. Maybe you have a credit card with you. Okay, they have your name. What about the rest of your information?

Bottom line is that you need to use that flabby grey mass inside your head once in a while. Don’t get mad at the retail clerk simply because it’s part of their job to check for ID. Don’t scoff at them because your wallet full of credit cards is short one photo ID. If you can remember to bring your wallet, you can remember to bring your ID. Please don’t feel the need to punish some poor schmuck just because you’re an idiot.

NO ID = NO TICKET

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