Tonight I got home after what was a really long day at work and ordered a pizza. It occurs to me that every time I do this I wonder what would happen if I greeted the pizza person (check out that PC niceness) with a song on guitar what they would do. I think punch me, but still the thought crosses my mind.
The other thing running through my mind concerns Heath Ledger. I know, mourning a movie star seems odd, but a part of me does. I was never some big fan of his, but I once saw Brokeback Mountain in a Salt Lake City indie film house. It’s a memory oddly ironic given last days post.
When I rocked the SLC I was dating the illusive “J,” who went by Jamie. She, her sister, and I, all saw the film together amongst what has to be the funniest/saddest moment in the history of religious oppression.
See, the owner of the Utah Jazz, Larry Miller (seriously click this link), owns a slew of movie houses in Salt Lake. About the time I was visiting, around Christmas 2005, Brokeback Mountain was seeing a huge release in a studio driven attempt to get some Oscars. The religious leaders in Utah were totally freaked out. Gays? Movies? NOOOOOOO!
At the front of the pack was Larry Miller, who immediately condemned the film and said he would not show it in his theaters. Thus, we saw it at the indie film house and I cried like a little girl. Seriously, that movie broke this chubby Irish kids heart, and if you haven’t seen it, go rent it right now. Even if you’re a Neanderthal who dislikes gay people, see it.
So that’s why I feel bad about Mr. Ledger. Because of him I have a really great memory from my time in SLC, and that movie probably wouldn’t have existed without him.
Oh, and also, the movie that Miller replaced Brokeback with? Hostel. Yeah, gay equals bad, but torture and blood are fine.
Religion…jeez.
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