netflix 1, mike 0

I’ve always been a few years behind the culture curve.

Probably won’t surprise any of you that I was the last of my friends to acquire a cell phone. My current phone lacks a plastic protector for the battery, which dislodges when I slam the flip too quickly. (I lost that little plastic piece on the day I walked the length of Manhattan. <--Click the link.) Sometimes the screen goes inexplicably white. No clue how to silence the phone, so I’m forced to settle for vibrate when I’m at church. An iPhone it ain’t.

During my epic roadtrip with Travis Brooks at the tail end of 2005 (Chicago, New York, Baltimore, Miami, Key West, New Orleans, Nashville, Louisville, Muncie), he introduced me to MySpace, YouTube and Wikipedia, three websites which I had never even heard of. Frightening, no? Old people with dust covers on their couches are more internet-savvy than I.

In keeping with the Mike-Is-Woefully-Behind-The-Times theme, I should probably explain my latest venture. Back in the fall, recognizing my own ignoramity in all matters film (my friends are all buffs), I converted to this dude known as “Netflix,” a keen, magical samaritan who teams with the United States Postal Service to deliver movies to my place of residence. Perhaps you’ve heard of him. I immediately set out to defeat Netflix at his own game, scarfing films at blitzkrieg rates in hopes of getting the best bang for my $8.99/month buck. By my calculations, I’d be able to get in 7+ movies per month, assuming I watched them the day they arrived and popped them in a mailbox the following morning.

It all started out so smoothly. In those first weeks, I viewed a number of classics--The Godfather, Psycho, Raging Bull--that I’d never gotten around to renting. Rosemary’s Baby, too. That was a good one. Since this marked my first committed foray into the medium, I consumed these films with an enthusiasm bordering on psychosis. See, I’ve never been a movie guy. Music guy, yes. Literature guy, absolutely. Painting, sure. Film, though, has always been my artistic Achilles Heel. I’ve never even seen The Goonies, which makes some people very angry.

Anyway, I watched a shitload of classic films. This went on for a couple months. Then Cool Hand Luke arrived. This was in January. Cool Hand Luke is still sitting on my shelf. I’m looking at it now. There’s actually a layer of dust on the surface of the envelope.

Netflix, you asshole. You knew my weaknesses. You knew this would happen. Now I’ve got a $40 film on my bookcase, which better be the best goddamn film I’ve ever seen. Probably won’t return it ‘til July. If it weren’t for jerkoffs like me, you wouldn’t be in business. Kiss my hairy keister.