I'm just going to jump right into it. I hate black people. HA! Kidding.
Yesterday was the install for our first digital projector, 3D capable. Today is the second install. Good so far?!
When I walked upstairs to get to the booth for the first time I witnessed a massacre of the arts. There were wires hanging and frayed. Pieces of metal were thrown about and scattered, plastic and bubble wrap all over the floor and sound rack. The new, compact digital projector was shinning in glory as these workers were scrambling around it to make sure we were on screen by 7:45pm. And all the while in the corner, all alone, was the old 35MM projector. He sat there, facing the mayhem with his scope and flat lens pointed at the new guy, slightly cocked to the right and a little puddle was forming under it. It could have been the lens cleaner. It might have been the oil streaking, but I'd like to think he was crying. The rein of the film days are coming to an end and we are force feeding the projectors their must deserves. I had to walk by the men working numerous times while running the movies and every time I passed the old projector I heard a sigh. I did have gas, a lot of it. That poor guy reminded my of Johnny #5 and I really felt like saving it's inanimate life.
As I threaded all the antique film through the projectors that were still up and running I got this sense of comradery, a silent coming together of sorts. Then I walked over to #10. See, this is the other projector to go today. They are doing one install a day and today is 10's turn to die. As with #5 yesterday so too will 10 be replaced today. I had a feeling of failure and broken dreams from #5 as it watched it's life slowly fading away, but with 10, I felt a sheepish, scared little mouse had taken over it's soul and could see it tightening it's bolts to the floor. It almost looked like it was nudging closer to the port glass window. Like it was going to hold onto the wall for dear life. It new we were coming for it. It might have been the weeps from #5's oil pump or maybe a last attempt to be infamous. "Go out with a bang, eh, A.J.?", but it was on a mission to be the last remaining 35MM film projector in the world. I pat his lamp housing and said good boy, threaded Eat, Pray, Love through his well greased sprockets and pushed start. A sense of uninterrupted respect and satisfaction poured into my bones as the Xenon bulb flickered on. It took three times to light. It was his way of deciding to go on, saying thank you, and good bye. He stood tall that day. And the other projectors took notice. A collective wave of honor and accomplishment rolled over the booth at that moment. The projectors seemed to give a one apeture plate salute while sweet #5 slowly passed away.
