We attended the first of two Thanksgiving dinners this past weekend. Every year we have a separate Thanksmas with a group of friends, no family drama, no parade, just turkey, some games, and people who like the company of each other.
This year, a friend of a friend came, and thus the year of Stephen came upon us. Stephen has a mohawk, an honest to goodness mohawk with pink tips. None of this faux-hawk business. It is a thing of beauty, and my five-year-old was in love the moment Stephen crossed the threshold of Friendsgiving. So much so, that he instantly ran to get his two-year-old brother. My two-year-old son stood toe to toe with this seven foot tall (hair included) man, looked up at him, all the way up, with his mouth wide open. “Are you a real dinosaur?” he asked. Thus 2014 became the year of the Thanksgiving dinosaur.
Apparently Mr. Spielberg and Mr. Trevarrow agree with me. This year, the highlight of my Thanksgiving day will not be the parade, it will not be the green bean casserole, it will not even be The National Dog Show. This year I will patiently wait for the commercial breaks during the football game, in anticipation of the trailer premiere of Jurassic World.
I have yet to find the words to describe just how much I love the Jurassic Park franchise. The first movie is my go-to movie. I watch it when I’m sick, I watch it when I’m sad, I watch it when I need a pick-me-up. It is “that” movie to me. But I do not discriminate. I will dance with all three installments. Call me a Spielberg floozy, I care not. I have been waiting for Jurassic Park since before we knew of Midi-Chlorians, since Anna Paquin was simply an X-Woman, since Richard Dean Anderson was MacGuyver. I was waiting for this movie in utero.
That Laura Dern would only allow one scream in the entire movie. That Ariana Richards could reboot the park’s system by herself. That Jeff Goldlum, well, was Jeff Goldblum. This movie shaped my young thoughts about so many things. My life verse became, “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.” It was the first time a movie was everything I hoped it would be. It was the first time that an idea I held loosely in my mind was put on the big screen for me to see played out. The T-Rex and the kid in his bedroom from Lost World was lifted from one of my day dreams; I don’t know how Spielberg got it.
Here’s a twenty-second teaser. Join me in looping this until Thursday:
