At the movies
Three hours before my 22nd birthday I was sitting in the back row of the old Foggy Bottom Theatre in Washington, D.C. during a Martin Scorsese film festival. We had already seen most of "Mean Streets" and were in the first reel of "Who's That Knocking at My Door." I seemed to fall asleep. I say "seemed to" because it is possible that what I am about to describe was not in fact a dream. Everything around me was suddenly bathed in weird colorless light. I could see every head in the audience with the clarity of noon. I could also see the movie. It was not Scorsese's film at all, but a documentary on early farm machinery. I have since perfected my technique and have been able to see the "other side" of many popular releases. My favorite director is Blake Edwards.