"So the devil will know who sent you."

Happy Thanksgiving, gang!

As usual, the Thomas family (minus Casey, who spent the holiday with Juan and his family at Disney World) slept in, and rolled up in Picadilly at about 1:30 p.m. for the annual Thanksgiving feast. I had Turkey and "dressing", Mom had pork chops in praline sauce (yes, pralines), and Dad had chopped steak. After overindulging ourselves, we played everybody's favorite Picadilly game, and looked on the check to see whose meal cost the most, and whose cost the least. Then, Casey called from Orlando and we went around the table, each announcing what we were thankful for.

There was some difference of opinion regarding this year's Thanksgiving movie. Since none of us is really a Harry Potter aficionado, and since I had seen Jarhead already, it really only came down to one of two movies. Walk The Line, playing everywhere, and The Legend of Zorro, playing at the crappy oldest theater in town without stadium seating. Dad used his veto on Walk The Line for pretty much no reason at all, so Zorro it was!

I must say - even though this movie was almost universally panned by critics, I found it very entertaining. I absolutely LOVE the Zorro character. Sure, nobody buys the whole "if you just put on a mask, nobody will recognize you" bit, and a person could probably fight a lot better, and more efficiently without doing a bunch of flips and somersaults and stuff, but anybody can do that. I wanna see a dude fight, and be acrobatic, and swing on stuff, and crack wise while he's doing it. It's no big secret that Zorro was much of the inspiration for Batman - a hero in black, an urban legend among the people he helps, available at a moments notice when summoned by a previously agreed upon signal, a flawless fighter, and a tragically flawed individual. In the Batman mythos, Bruce Wayne and his family were actually leaving the theater after having seen "The Mark Of Zorro" when his parents were killed. Coincidence? I think not. My awe of the character must be similar to the same awe that Bob Kane must have felt when he created Batman way back in the day. So - the critics hated this flick. So, maybe it's not as good as its predecessor. So what. I don't need Zorro to win Oscars, I need him to best 10 men at once in a sword fight, jump off of something high and land on his feet, outrun a train on his horse, pound the bad guy into oblivion, carve a "Z" into his chest, and say, "So the devil will know who sent you" before tying him to the front of aforementioned speeding locomotive (loaded with nitroglycerine) as it speeds into something solid. Is that too much to ask? I don't think so. This flick delivers. It's a good time. Rent it.

So, on the way out, I'm chatting with mom and dad as we walk along the sidewalk... I turn and walk backwards as I talk to them behind me, and as I turn back around, something stops me dead in my tracks. You know how some people act like they've been rendered speechless because it's funny, or makes a point, or whatever? As far as I can tell - this is what they're pretending to do. I seriously forgot to keep talking and walking when I saw this:




That's right- it's a BATMAN MOTORCYCLE. Is it possible that someone could be more of a fan than me? Is it possible? Or is it just possible that someone who is an equal fan has more money than me. Friends, I think it is the latter. I looked around for the owner of this beauty. Then I asked around for them. When I couldn't find them, I tried to steal it... but I don't have a bike license, nor have I ever actually ridden a motorcycle, so I figured it wouldn't do me any good. I'll just have to paint my car, is all.

Anyway - to cap off an already wonderful day, I got a call from Dustin. She is here in B.R., away from her family for Thanksgiving, so I took her to see Walk The Line, which I was secretly dying to see anyway. That's all the excuse I needed to make it a double feature day. LOVED Walk The Line. Loved it. Go see it. And sing out loud, it's okay. Especially if you're in the same theater as Bill.

How was yours?