Full Mental Jacket, Part II

I feel an obligation to deliver a Part II to the previous entry. It kind of dovetails nicely with the fact the last story was a "Part I" so it's not much of a stretch. So, put on your beanie-coptors, grab a big hunk of chocolate, and take my hand as we venture back into Best Buy.

Breaking away from the CD section of the store, the cacophonic beat of some third-rate white rapper pounding a nuclear-sized concussion into my coconut, I make for the movie section. The first thing I do is shimmy over to the new releases. There they are, regal and over-wrapped, in military-style regimentation. Impressive. Borderline spellbinding. Of course, the aisles are so narrow that you couldn't fit a police chalk outline of Shelley Duvall on the floor. The video game section shares the other side of the aisle and there is always some intense, doughy pre-teen blocking the way. I try to navigate around the Strait of Round, so I can get a full view of my DVD troops. Nine times out of ten, I punt. Ice Cube doing a children's movie? I'll pass. Another gore-fest featuring idiot teens fresh from a Benetton ad? Um, no. Another pretentious period piece from Merchant Ivory extolling the virtues of class while attempting to decry those very same class systems? Pass the hemlock. Plus, the price for a new release is 20-some-odd-dollars. Hell, if I wait for a few weeks, I can pick up the same movie in the "3-for-$25" bin at Blockbuster video. Why I even bother to go to the New Releases section is beyond me. I'm 50% Italian, 50% Irish - 100% idiot.

I'd be embarrassed to tell you how many movies I own. Suffice to say, it's far more than 1,000. I was able to survive the shift from VHS to DVD, but, should another medium become the preferred method of movie viewing, I'm sunk. I'll go down railing at the gods and their unconscionable hubris, scooping up DVD players by the armload so I can still enjoy my dear, precious movies while the rest of the world is flying around town in their George Jetson hovercars.

But, I digress...

I am the perfect fool when it comes to marketing DVDs. For example, let's just say a movie called "Summer Camp Orgy" - you know, the PG-13 version, comes out on DVD. I buy, it, enjoy it, love the extras, can recite a few memorable lines on my buddy's answering machine, and watch it on a rainy Saturday morning. Then, the studio comes out with "The Director's Cut" - with FIVE EXTRA MINUTES OF FOOTAGE! Or, perhaps, they proclaim it's the UNRATED version - the type they COULDN'T show in the theaters. Now, ladies out there, let me give you an obvious lesson in male behavior. When it comes to movies, "UNRATED" = there's a chance of seeing boobs in the movie, or if there are already boobs in the movie, there is the chance we will see....MORE boobs - or at least an ass crack. We'll gladly shell out the $39 to get the 3-DVD version, two discs of which are filled with such useful extras as interviewing Lourdes, the Mexican food service lady, the story board of the white-knuckle chess match between rival camp counselors, and the Mandarin Chinese subtitles. Then, we'll get home, order up an artery-hardening pizza, draw the shades, swirl the ice cubes in our Big Gulp and put the DVD in. Midway through the movie, we realize that the extra footage was NOT of the female counselor's changing room or the all-female skinny dipping session, complete with slow-motion camera work. No, the extra footage was of the nerdy kid falling into the toilet or a few throwaway quips from the wisecracking cook in the cafeteria. Somewhere, Satan is laughing so hard that he ends up crapping in his fur.

There's been a romanticism associated with vintage television - and not-so-vintage television programs. If it was on the tube in the past, it will end up in a DVD boxed set, invariably containing interviews with whatever surviving cast members talking about "what a joy" it was to work with the other members of the cast. What monkey dung. We all know the backstabbing and espionage that went on. Alcohol and drug abuse, tantrums about who had a bigger dressing room or trailer, who had more lines. For once, I want to see some straight dealing on these DVD interviews:

Actress A: "We had our differences. I really don't think it affected our performances. Well, maybe hers."

Actress B: "I hated her. She was such a bitch."

A: "Well, now that I think about it, I think she had a vestigial tail. Oh, and her hair? If she didn't dye it every week, she'd be grayer than a week-old pot roast in a hobo's armpit."

B: "Did you ever smell her breath? It smells like baboon ass. She also has hair on her nipples. We used to call them hairy-olas."

A: "Would I work with her again? Sure, why not. I am confident we can get past our differences for the fans."

B: "Depends. How much?"

Gee whiz. Can't wait for the commemorative DVD collection of Fish, Cop Rock, and Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire? Nothing like instant nostalgia to keep you living in the not-so-distant past. Now, shows put out a season on DVD right after the season ends. It's kind of like a band putting out a Greatest Hits album just months after their debut.

He: "Honey, remember that first episode of "Executive Privilege"?"

She: "You mean the debut episode we watched two hours ago?"

He: "Yeah, that was great."

There are so many decisions to make, too. Full-screen versus letterbox widescreen. Do I really want to be able to see the grubby townspeople in the margins of the screen? Can I deal with those annoying black bands at the top and bottom of the picture? Then again, maybe I'll just read a book. It's relaxing, entertaining and practical.

And if its really good, maybe they'll make it into a movie.