Wednesday.Apr.30.2008
The 11 Voyages of Captain Ron
By
Lex Walker
Have you ever watched Captain Ron twice in one night? No? Can you imagine doing it without being hammered? Or even slightly buzzed? I’ve done it – with nothing more than two large pizzas and a two liter of RC Cola (the serf of colas) to get me through the experience. It turns out I have a high tolerance for retinally-inflicted pain. In fact, remember back to that first sentence, when I asked if you’d ever watched that one movie twice? I watched it eleven times that night. And by “that night” mathematically speaking, I clearly mean that entire day. A day of Captain Ron.
It started out innocent enough – it was the final day of a holiday weekend. You know those Mondays where you know that you and the rest of the U.S. have opted for a day of awkward uselessness yet you can’t help but feel you should do something? Anything at all? After all, having Monday off really only makes that Monday the temporary Sunday. But back to the Cap’n – and again, we’re not talking about Morgan, at any point. We were browsing my China-enhanced DVD collection looking for a solid collection of movies to waste away the day. Here’s the final lineup we’d planned on:
Wayne’s World
Wayne’s World 2
Fierce Creatures
Blazing Saddles
Rat Race
Mallrats
Baseketball
Office Space
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off
We were satisfied with our lineup, a good mix of classic with more recent flicks. No, you didn’t misread and I didn’t accidentally omit. Captain Ron…was never part of the plan. Captain Ron was a mistake, read as far into that as you will. We voted on an order and decided that we’d go alphabetically just so we wouldn’t have to vote more than once. So there it was: Baseketball. Gary finds himself the last person to touch his nose – thus he’s the DVD loading bitch. He takes the case, puts in the DVD and the menu screen pops up.
The Captain Ron menu screen. Someone switched the two DVDs. To this day I’m hunting this person. I suspect they’ve fled the country, whoever they are.
Do we abort operation “Waste the day with comedies”? Do we eject? Do we scream in frustration? No, it’s 8 a.m. Who has that kind of energy at 8 a.m. on a Monday masquerading as a Sunday?
No one. That’s who.
We look around and decide using an intricate series of tonal grunts that Baseketball just got shit canned in favor of a Martin Short family flick. Human history has never known a darker moment – until 100 minutes later.
“…we’ll just stop and ask for directions.” Cue the calypso credit music. The credits roll all the way through. That DVD laser thing plays telling you what facility burned the DVD. The menu screen begins anew. More grunts. No one moves. We all touch our noses. Too close to call. As a threat I say “We’ll just watch it again if none of you lazy bums changes the disc.” No one stirs. I supplied the movies – I wasn’t gonna get up.
What could I do? I pushed the button. Martin Short’s encounter with a kooky Kurt Russell began again. And again. And again. Somehow we found the strength to order pizza. Why didn’t we change the disc while we were up paying the delivery guy? Or when we were going to the bathroom?
There’s something about Captain Ron. It paralyzes you. Leaves you numb. You want to roll over, close your eyes and pretend the world will pass you by in peace. To rock back and forth like a victim trying to suppress the mixed emotions flooding across their senses. But you can’t. You just can’t. It might’ve been easier had this been Short post-Giminy Glick…but it wasn’t. He was still somewhat funny. Captain Ron was like really bad heroin. It just might kill you, the high isn’t all that great but you’re debilitated all the same and can do nothing but stare straight ahead and drool. It was like eating the sixth Kudos bar in the box of ten – it’s mediocre candy-coated granola bar, but you’ve already made it that far may as well finish the whole box right?
And so it went. Over and over. Captain Ron’s car drives off the end of the dock. Kurt Russell teaches the kid about capitalism in Monopoly. Martin Short learns the difference between Gorillas and Guerrillas. This wasn’t even the cool way of watching a movie over and over again – where shots are involved. No sir. Mr. Smirnoff was absent and the Captain’s club only had enough seating for Senor Ron – Morgan found himself standing outside the red velvet rope with the Grand Marnier. It’s borderline criminal – but we did it.
It was a crime of convenience to be sure. You know how it is. You could stop the big corporation from polluting the ol’ swimming lake but that take’s an awful lot of paperwork. Wouldn’t it just be easier to set up a lawn chair with a sprinkler underneath? It is. Try it. Very nice.
By the ninth viewing there arose concerns over work the next day. “Hey, it’s 2 a.m., I should get going, I have an early morning”. I hit the play button. “Oh, well maybe just once more.” But it wasn’t once more, it was twice. The Captain was truly with us that night.
The voyage was long and unsure. But in the end I think our lives were enriched. In the way that crops are enriched with DDT when you spray for locusts. Or the way the body is enriched when you eat lead shavings. We got to savor two actors at what can only be interpreted as the obvious decline of their careers. Kurt Russell’s career hadn’t entirely crashed and burned after the Escape series and well Martin Short hadn’t yet profaned the cablevision world with his fat suit. But they were close.
Simpler days. Not necessarily better…but certainly simpler.
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