rustypants speaks

we were 17. we were young, stupid, and bored.

scott and i managed to swipe a bottle of old granddad and were out on a saturday night, mercifully without a curfew. we’d been driving, without the drinking, but now our master plan was to be enacted.

we pulled into the I-275 theater on the east side of cincinnati where every saturday night was a midnight showing of some concert film.

tonight’s film?

pink floyd’s The Wall. we’d been singing it in the car at the top of our lungs for the past year or so but had never seen the movie.

we sat in the parking lot and hit the bottle for a while, getting a buzz on. and then went a bit further.

we bought our tickets, grabbed seats in the mostly empty theater and settled in for what we were sure was going to be an incredible, mind-altering ride through one of the greatest albums ever made.

and all i can say now, even 23 years after the fact, is this:

the shaving scene had us stuttering like sylvester in a crazy, mouse-infested haunted house.

we were still twitching while the credits were rolling.

i never drank old granddad again.

the movie still disturbs me.

yeeeesh!!