I have a couple of quirks about motion pictures -- well, more than a couple actually, but only two that I want to talk about right now. One is that I almost always stay and watch the final credits -- all of the final credits. I have three reasons for doing this 1.) I believe that the key grip or the best boy is as responsible for the success of the movie I've just seen as the egomaniacs who get their names up on the screen before the movie starts and this is my way of paying my respects to the unsung, 2.) This is a great way to see your next movie for free; most theaters follow a code that does not allow them to start cleaning the theater until everyone is gone, but most theater cleaners don't know this; when they turn on the lights and start cleaning before the credits are over, I find a manager and complain and invariably I get free movie passes. Reason#3.) I will get to in just a second.
My other quirk is summed up in a sentence I uttered to my future-wife when we first started dating. I told her, "There are only three kinds of movies I will go see -- comedies, romances and romantic comedies." And that's true, if a movie's not romantic or funny or preferably both, that movie won't get my $8.50. (Which is also reason #3 as to why I stay and watch the credits -- the kind of movies I go to see affect me and watching the credits gives me a chance to collect myself emotionally.)
So tonight my wife and I had another perfect date. It began with Atlantic salmon encrusted with blue cornmeal and covered with a radish-watermelon glaze, haricot verts, fingerling potatoes and Greek salad at our favorite restaurant, the Mustard Seed. And then we went to the movies and saw a great one, a complex romantic comedy called "Lars and the Real Girl." Lars is an emotionally damaged young man who can not stand to be touched and cannot sustain a relationship with anyone other than a real doll he ordered online. It could have easily turned into a smutty sitcom-like waste of 90 minutes, but thanks to the sure hands of the cast and the director and a great screenplay it became instead a beautiful examination of love and community. There were parts of this film that I know I'll never be able to talk about without tearing up, so you know I stayed and watched the credits. And during those credits I saw something I'd never seen before -- a shout-out to the "honeywagon driver."
The only time I've ever heard the term "honeywagon" it referred to a tanker used to suck up waste matter from porta-potties. A little research online after I got home tells me that a honeywagon can also be a "trailer or truck and trailer combination outfitted for and used as the dressing room for actors when on location". And even though I'd prefer it was the guy vacuuming out the porta-pots getting some recognition, that's probably what was referred to in these movie credits, and that's okay too. At least it's a blue-collar guy.