One of Life's Little Moments....

One of Life's Little Moments....

Wandered down to see the movie United 93 yesterday.

I'm not going to do a post, I don't think. Partly because others can say what needs to be said more eloquently. But mostly because I don't know how to describe it. Others have run into similar problems. Don't want to say "good movie," necessarily. I think it'll have to suffice for me to say "well-made movie."

I will say that I was surprised by my own small reactions to the show. I realized that I flinched when the second plane hit the second tower. How I couldn't seem to get comfortable, and not because the seat, but because what I'm trying to watch is rough to process. Just couldn't find a comfortable position to be in.

I was also surprised (like Mike) to see Sledge Hammer as a passenger on the plane...and also Fay from Wings....

What really surprised me?

During the movie, though, there's a quiet moment. It's as the passengers on United 93 begin talking to each other after being forced to the back of the plane. It comes right after a loud series of moments....chaos at an air traffic control center, I believe. But there's a quiet section of the movie...not quiet, maybe, but less loud, and certainly quiet enough in the theater to hear what happened with one of the patrons.

In the middle of this quiet moment, where we see the passengers beginning to plot amongst themselves...somebody about five or six rows behind me farts.

And not just one of these little superficial splorts. A big, loud and impressive banger. This one came from deep within. Remember, I heard it from five or six rows away, and it had to have been muted by the buttcheeks and seat cushioning. It lasted a good second.

I'm sitting there, in awe of the fact that in the middle of this movie chronicling probably the single greatest horror of this generation, somebody's deciding to let loose. I'm not even irritated. I'm not happy. I'm not anything, emotionally. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the thing.

And then, from right around the same area, I hear that metallic "Fwap, Fwap" sound of a theater seat rebounding into the upright position, as the person weighing it down has just left.

And then I see a body trot down the stairs to my left, and exit the theater at a jog.

Again, I watch this with a mild sort of amusement.

I even chuckle to myself, a bit, as I think I've pieced together what's happened. I wait about 5 minutes, to see the guy return, before finally confirming my suspicions.

Here's my theory:

We've all had that moment. We're gassy. So gassy it hurts. Don't know. Maybe we've eaten broccoli, or the chimichanga we had last night. Maybe we're lactose intolerant, but just love ice cream. So we're gassy. And we think that if we're in a private enough area, and if we just vent off a little of that gas, we'll feel better.

That's what I'm thinking this guy was trying to do. I'm thinking he was just trying to release a little pressure. Maybe he was thinking it would even come out silently--a satisfying rush of wind. But there was so much pressure there, that the valve just wouldn't shut closed in time. There's just so much pressure in there, so much gas, that a lot got out.

Add to that, the fact that it's a warm day, and the movie's a tense one. You've been sweating down there, so everything's stuck together near the offramp to the Hershey Highway. So, when stuff gets released, it announces itself as it bursts forth the world.

There is another possibility. That it couldn't have been helped. Possibly, the guy was being utterly and completely respectful, and was perfectly willing to hold it until the end of the movie, but was like me, and found himself fidgeting not because the seat was uncomfortable, but because he found himself uncomfortable with, well, maybe himself and what he was watching.

And in a fidget, something horrible slipped out.

But soon after (or maybe during), he figured out that what he'd just let wasn't your average, run-of-the-mill house mouse fart.

It was the pre-cursor fart. The foreshock fart. The John the Baptist fart. The fart that is but an omen of things to come. In a word, the fart that comes right before a dump.

And judging by the fellow's reaction, I'm thinking what was to come after that fart may have been completely atrocious. Perhaps it was the dreaded dump that will change how people think of you.

We've all had them. Hell, I had one at Baseball's Hall of Fame last October.

Anyway. Because all things scatalogical amuse me, it made me smile, even in the midsts of this powerful movie, we get reminded that sometimes that we are all human, and that we all have moments like that.

Me, I was once the president of my church Youth group, and in the midst of giving a sermon on "Youth Sunday," I was hit by a gas attack so bad that it made me laugh in the middle of whatever it was I was trying to say.

I didn't fart. Not in the pulpit. But in the recessional, or whatever you want to call it as the Youth group and I left the sanctuary that day, I let a silent string of farts that led from altar to the rear exit.

To this day, I still get a more than unhealthy chuckle at the idea of a preacher farting in the middle of a sermon.

But, like I said. It's one of those unifying things. We all fart.

Everybody farts. I'll bet my old preacher, a very nice man named Ogle, farted in the pulpit. I'd lay money down.

Everybody farts. Nelson Mandela. Mother Teresa. Martin Luther King, Jr. Franklin Roosevelt. Abe Lincoln. John Adams.

Sam Adams! You know Sam Adams farted! He brewed beer, for heaven's sake! There's are few farts more satisfying or higher in entertainment value than a good old beer fart.

Everybody farts. George Washington. Betsy Ross. Ghandi.

Jesus farted! How could he he not, eating all those fresh fruits and vegetables? I mean, sure, it may have smelled like roses, or manna from heaven. But Jesus Did Fart.

Everybody. I fart. You fart. The President farts. Republicans. Democrats. Liberals. Conservatives. Libertarians. Fascists. Commies. Nazis. Commie-Nazis.

Priests. Teachers. Businessmen. The air traffic controllers. The terrorists.

I damn bet ya that the people on that United 93 flight farted. During the whole ordeal. If they're like me, and their nerves hit them wrong....

Still, they overcame it. Stopped the terrorists.

Anyway. Ever write something and it just wanders away from you? This is a prime example.

I think I needed a catharsis of sorts during the movie. It's rough. Grueling. Grinding. It's well made, and it sucks you in. Maybe I needed that fart to remind me "hey! just a movie, pal..."