Saturday, August 28, 2010

Dance, Magic, Dance...

Three words: Labyrinth. Beer. Theater.

I knew I was in love with Portland when I walked into the Bagdad Theater on Saturday night, showed my id, paid three bucks, ordered a beer, and sprawled out on a couch to watch one of my favorite childhood movies,

First of all, there needs to be more beer theaters in the world. They are, quite simply, amazing. I used to sneak beers into the movie theater when I went to school at New Paltz, but this took things to a whole new level. In more recent years I made the switch to drinking wine more often than beer, but Portland definitely rekindled my passion for tasty microbrews, especially when consumed while watching

My relationship with
Labyrinth spans back to second grade. My parents had a rule that we could only watch an hour of television each week, but somehow I managed to subvert that rule when I got a copy of Labyrinth on VHS. Everyday…over and over again. It was just me, David Bowie, and a bunch of wacky creatures. I never noticed how prominently David Bowie displayed his balls when I was kid, but yeah, they are definitely a major feature of the film. I recently put on the song “Magic Dance” while hanging out with my friend Leah and asked her if she knew the film.

“Is that the film with that weird musician in it?” she asked.

“David Bowie? Yeah, he’s in it.”

“Dude, that movie freaked me out when I was a kid,” she said.

“Really? I loved it,” I responded, “I watched it everyday for months.”

“Of course you did, Maya, of course you did.”

So maybe my love for
Labyrinth as a kid explains some of my weirdness, but anyways, back to Portland. We managed to find some comfy couches on the balcony, so I laid out on mine just like I was in my living room. Since it was an old movie and everyone in the theater knew it there was lots of shouting, laughing, and singing along. Of course, everyone applauded when David Bowie appeared. I’m happy to say that I contributed to the good times as I did little dances while sitting on my couch, sang nearly every word to “Magic Dance,” and made ridiculous comments throughout the film.

I even timed things right to get a beer without missing too much of the movie. I knew that right after “Chilly Down” (aka “Getting Down with the Fry Guys”) nothing too crazy happened in the film so I dashed down to the bar to grab a pint of porter. Delicious.

I probably could have spent every night of my trip to Portland just drinking beers, going to see
Labyrinth, and making fun of David Bowie’s balls, but there were many more adventures to be had…

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