I love movies.
I love the big screen, and watching a film with other people.
I love eating popcorn in the theater.
I loved the cartoon before they finally killed off Wiley Coyote.
And, I even love the previews. It's like getting a two minute movie for free, well almost free.
But the other day, I arrived for my movie way to early.
I was treated to an early preview show of things coming next summer or later.
I guess it was better than a blank screen.
Then at show time, the real previews started.
They started with a stunning increase in the volume.
I was deep into the popcorn; some of it flew into the empty seat next to me.
By the way, I love surround sound but my tolerance for being surrounded was about to be tested.
What followed for twenty minutes was a cacophony of rock music, explosions, screeching tires, screaming victims, and more gun shots than a police firing range.
I was treated or mistreated to a brief, noisy look at a large portion of Hollywood's production schedule until sometime in 2013.
It was a numbing, and unforgettable experience.
And a week later, trying to see another Academy Award nominee, we made a conscious effort to arrive too late to see the previews.
The ticket seller confided that many movie goers are slipping into the theater a little late to avoid the previews that rival Thunder over Louisville in length and decibels.
We slipped into our seats just as the titles were fading away and The Artist appeared in brilliant black and white. It was a great movie. And did I mention, it was a silent movie.