My cousin Kathleen suggested we go the El Capitan theatre in Hollywood. It's a beautifully restored old theatre, owned by Disney, and features a show before the movie.
The ticket price included reserved seats, a bucket of popcorn and a soda. Mark had just finished lunch, and complained about how stuffed he was. "I don't want any popcorn," he groaned.
"Then don't eat it," I said. "Take it, but don't eat it." I knew if he didn't take it, he'd moan about extreme hunger when the movie started.
We got our drinks, and Mark reminded me for the fifth time that he didn't want any popcorn. I ignored him, and headed for our seats, where Mark immediately dug into his popcorn. "I don't want popcorn," Kathleen mimicked, and we both cracked up. He ate half the bucket in about five minutes.
A man onstage played a gold organ, serenading us with Disney tunes. We sang along until he finished the last song, turned to wave at the audience, and then slowly disappeared, organ and all, through the stage floor.
A woman came dancing on stage, leading the crowd into a rousing song that consisted entirely of the word "Chihuahua!" ("I could do this all day long," I told Kathleen, after yelling "Chihuahua" for the hundredth time.) The lady posed a a few trivia questions, all with the same answer--you guessed it, chihuahua. We suffered though a group of little kids answering dog-related trivia, and then sang another round of the chihuahua song.
I looked over at Mark, who was eating his popcorn out of his bucket like a dog. "What are you doing?" I asked, and he answered, "Woof." Then he dipped his head back into the bucket.
"Are you eating like a dog?" I asked, and he answered, once again, "Woof." He was getting into the whole dog theme.
Then it was time for the big event. Two little dogs bounded onto the stage, and the crowd went wild. It was Papi and Chloe, the movie's stars. (The kid behind me screamed, "Papi!" and I wondered how she knew his name--I mean, the movie just opened yesterday!)
Papi and Chloe's trainer also came onstage, and described how he taught the dogs to become actors. It was pretty funny--Chloe, a little white Chihuahua, didn't want to do any tricks, she just wanted to eat the treats.
The show ended with a bang, literally, as confetti rained down from the balconies. It was quite an event. (Quick movie review--I give it two paws up. Not a movie I'd have seen before Mark, but it was funny, as far as talking animal movies go, and the dogs were cute. Plus, it didn't suffer from the biggest problem in Disney shows--obnoxious, smart-mouthed kids sassing their parents.)
Afterwards, we strolled along Hollywood Blvd., taking in all the weird sights. Only in L.A. would you see a swarm of paparazzi stalking a famous person, or a giant Elmo wandering into McDonald's. I wanted to look at the stars in the sidewalk, but the stuff around me was more interesting--people dressed up in crazy, dingy costumes, conning tourists into taking pictures with them for money. It was very surreal, and a little freaky for Mark. "I don't like that Yoda," he said, after being approached aggressively, and I didn't blame him.
Sunday, we celebrated Kathleen's birthday with a barbecue at our house. That was also a fun day, filled with my favorite things--good food, good friends, good family. The weather was nice and sunny, the company was good, and there were enough desserts to officially deem it a buffet. I made my first potato salad ever, with Kathleen's help and extraordinary patience. (I saw worry flash across her face when I tasted it, and asked, "Is potato salad supposed to be crunchy?" After microwaving and re-boiling the undercooked potatoes, it turned out okay.)
So there you have it...chihuahuas, birthdays, and crunchy potato salad--just a few of the things that make up a good weekend!
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