What kind of a person rides 400 miles to see a movie he not only owns on DVD but has seen so much that he can pretty much recite the script from memory?
Hey, I'm Eric. Have we met?
Suppose I should explain how this egregious lapse in common sense came to be. As anyone who speaks to me for more than 4 minutes knows, my favorite film is, always has been and always will be THE WARRIORS.
What was already a decades-old obsession was intensified a few weeks back when co-worker and fellow geek Johnny Oh got me the video game for my birthday.
The game is a mixed bag. While the gameplay is sunk by clumsy controls and abysmal camerawork, the writing is amazing. More than half of the game takes place before the conclave, including several bonus missions that detail how The Warriors came to be and how each member seen in the movie wound up joining the clique. You run into several of the gangs that are only seen and not heard from in the film, inlcuding pretty much every set that you see making their way to the conclave during the opening credits.
I used to watch the opening credits as a kid and wonder about those other gangs. Who were they? Where were they from? How tough were they? Are those guys really dressed like mimes? (They're actually named The Hi-Hats, but you can learn that from the trailer on the DVD issued around 2001.) The game actually answers these questions, and some even a hardcore geek like me wouldn't have thought to ask. (Like where Luther scores the badge he wears on his vest through most of the film.)
I was hooked from the moment I saw the opening screen...
...complete with Barry De Vorzon's freaky synthesizer score.
So, I've spent the last several weeks immersed in 1979 Coney Island. My source at the Nuart tells me THE WARRIORS will be running there at the end of August, but a quick peek at other screenings out of curiousity revealed that it was gonna play at San Francisco's Red Vic this weekend.
Immediately, a little voice in my head, one that sounded a little like Swan, said, "We're gonna march right through these lame f**ks' territory."
Which is Warriors-speak for, "Dude, you should go." Not only would I get to see THE WARRIORS, (A couple times) but I'd also get to spend a couple days on my bike, including a sweet ride down PCH on the way home.
After spending the last couple days trying to talk myself out of it, and failing, I threw a change of clothes and my laptop into a backpack and hit the road Saturday morning. The plan was to head out a little before 8, drop my stuff off at my motel room outside of SF, then hit the Red Vic in time for the 4 o'clock show. I could then grab a bite, see a little of SF, then catch the 7:15 show before calling it a night.
But that was going to require covering a lot of ground before mid-afternoon, something I've never had trouble with.
Being out on the road again felt great, even though it was cold and overcast until the sun finally broke through a little north of Santa Barbara. I was greeted with glorious weather for the next couple hours and traffic was light so I was making great time. What could possibly go wrong?
Well, I'll tell you.
I first got a speeding ticket somewhere near the middle of nowhere. Officer Poncherello said he painted me doing north of 80. Everyone on the road was doing north of 80, and continued to do so as he wrote me the ticket, but I've already learned the hard way that the Governator's khaki stormtroopers have a mad-on for a dude on a sportbike.
Unlike most Chippies who seem to be trained in the art of dickery in the academy, the dude was very polite and thanked me for my cooperation and good attitude. It was kind of like having your apartment robbed and finding a note from the thief thanking you for buying such nice stuff.
Either way, I wasn't gonna let this inconvenience get me down. So, I pressed Northward...
...until...
..for the first time in my adult life I ran out of gas. I still don't know how it happened, since I've pushed my bike much farther than the 146 miles that showed on my trip odometer, but my Kawi sputtered and stalled before silently gliding to a stop next to a sign that helpfully told me I was a mile away from the next gas station.
The sign didn't, however, warn me that mile was uphill. I learned that one the hard way as I pushed my 400-pound unconscious bike to the Union 76.
Fortunately, though, I made it without winding up as a hood ornament on one of the Peterbilt's that was whizzing by me on the 101, and my bike fired right up with 4 gallons of unleaded on board, but my once soaring spirits now resembled the cover of Led Zeppelin's debut album.
What was gonna snap my sudden losing streak?
What could I turn to?
What would save me in my darkest hour?
That's right...
Seven-grain almond granola pancakes. All was right in the world again.
But, after spending so much time on the shoulder of the 101, I was a little behind schedule. Fortunately, I was able to zip through San Jose's urban sprawl, lighten my load at the Motel 6 and navigated San Francisco's hellacious traffic just in time to see that real live bunch from Coney climb aboard the subway that would take them to the Bronx and change their lives forever.
The Red Vic is a cool little rep house, very similar to my beloved New Beverly Cinema in spirit and vibe. A very cool setup and one of the few things I miss about living in San Francisco.
As strange as it may sound to pretty much everyone reading this now, I will never get tired of seeing THE WARRIORS on the big screen as God intended. The house was about half full, but one of the fans in attendance was a Ventura-County paramedic I knew from my ER gig at Community Memorial Hospital of Ventura. Small world, huh?
After watching the boys and Mercy walk off into the sunrise, I wandered around the Haight a bit. I was pleasantly surprised to find San Fran really is very bike-friendly...
...and I was reaccquainted with Escape From New York, a small chain of pizza joints in the City that would qualify as the only other thing I miss about living in San Francisco.
No, seriously. The best pizza I've ever had. Ever.
I also stumbled across the San Fran Amoeba Records...
...which can't possibly stack up to the Hollywood location. After all, does the SF store sponsor a midnight movie series?
I stepped back into the Red Vic for the 7:15 showing, as planned, and was pleasantly surprised to watch the place completely fill up before the house lights dimmed. Good to see THE WARRIORS fans stepping up to support the rep house.
Before anyone calls for the psych eval, lemme stress that the journey is just as important as the destination on this mini-roadie of mine. After all, I wouldn't have driven to SF to see THE WARRIORS. The Red Vic screenings just gave me a purpose and a destination, i.e. an excuse to spend a couple days on my bike. Combining my two passions -- riding (Especially along the Coastline) and cinema (Especially THE WARRIORS) -- makes perfect sense, doesn't it?
Nah, you're right. I need help. But after I get reaccquainted with PCH.
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