Eldest son had called ahead, and learned the theater wouldn't start selling tickets until 6 PM.

This for a show that wouldn't start until 7:30.

So he, the wife and I, and wife's godson pulled into the theater parking lot at 5:35. Our McD's dinners in hand. A small car was parked in the middle of the snowy lot, a young woman seated inside, reading. Against the long wall was another small red car.

Youngest son, and friends from Jazz Band. We pulled alongside to let him know we were there, and then backed out to park in the lot, in front of the doors.

And we waited.

At a quarter 'til six, the three band members could stand the tension no more, and made a dash for the front door.

"Bullshit, you think!" was all I heard as wife's godson flew out his door behind me, and dashed across the lot.

He won. With eldest son not far behind.

We stayed warm and comfortable in the Explorer as the young men toughed it out in the wind and snow for their precious places at the front of the line. A few minutes later, Chuck took notice of the McD's bag and cups in their hands, and invited godson and eldest son inside to use the trash cans (certainly better than having the trash end up on his walks, but he didn't know that wouldn't happen).

Saxophone player nearly gave himself whiplash as he turned and realized the front of the line had disappeared.

By the time they were allowed in to stay, precisely at six o'clock, the line consisted of the original five, an additional band member that was dropped off, and a bearded cowboy who was also dropped off. While the young reading woman beat the wife and I inside (only 'cause I held the door), the wife promptly stepped across the velvet rope to the front of the line.

She was the one paying for the first three members of the line, so they could hardly argue.

As soon as the cash register went "ka-ching" the three sons made a mad dash across the foyer into the theater (literally). I strolled close behind.

As it was, we got our desired seats (row 4, seats 7 and 8 if you're ever here), eldest son and godson got theirs in row 3, and the jazz band took front and center.

And then we sat. And we waited.

Listening to Cowboy Christmas carols.

Really. Would have been kinder to make us wait outside a little longer.

So, the young woman, also in row 3, had a book to read. As did godson, until wife stole it (Only briefly. She spent most of the wait filling in birthdays and anniversaries on her new 2003 planning calendar. I added in all the dates and locations of my check stations for next fall.) Eldest son begged a piece of licorice from a teen handing them out, and spent his time separating the strands, then reweaving them together into licorice rope.

Oddly, this time-killer caught on in the front rows, with two guys weaving a jumprope out of theirs. Which they promptly took up front to try (it didn't hold together).

When a kid spills his popcorn in your theaters, does he go out to get a broom and pan to clean it up?

He did in ours. The later band member. A former member of our youth group, who hitched a ride to the theater, and had no ride home.

With all the high schoolers in front of and behind us (Two actually sat with their parents! Can you believe that?), it was definitely a party atmosphere.

Now, when I stopped in to visit Herworship on Monday, she mentioned one of her writings that she had sold was in an "anthology."

Now, that is a word I have heard often, but in truth I didn't really know what it means (do you?). But I certainly didn't let her know I didn't know.

So, to kill some time, I asked wife's godson what an "anthology" was.

He said it was a number. Like a trilogy. Friends behind us disagreed, stating it was a series, but without any specific number. Someone from row 2 chimed in as well, and this conversation successfully killed maybe three minutes of the wait.

When all was said and done, the literary young woman leaned back in her seat and advised me an "anthology" is a "collected works." (And she was right... I looked it up.)

Haven't they always said going to the theater was educational and broadening?

So about ten minutes before the previews started, Chuck came into the theater, asking everyone to shift over to make room for the late arrivals.

Now, we had a single empty seat on the left, and another on the right. But I told the wife, we're not moving. We came early for these seats, so let the others move in towards us. And then we took our individual potty breaks (it's a three-hour movie, you know).

As I came back from mine, after visiting with the sheriff who was here to see My Big Fat Greek Wedding, the theater was nearly full (Chuck should be happy).

And there was a man and his young son standing in front of the wife. As I sidle in, she advises me they have a request:

Can we move over so they can sit together?

Okay, so I'm all bluff. Seat 9 is almost just as good as 8.

Okay, so the movie?

Superb, wonderful, everything you had hoped for, etc etc. They did a great job on Gollem, and the Ents as well.

Maybe not enough scenes with Arwen.

I'm sure there are good reviews out there, so I won't bother describing the movie. One thing, though. During the final, climactic, crunching battle scene, I was surprised and disappointed that Peter Jackson spent a couple seconds focusing on two of the cherubic Rohan children hiding in the caves.

Well, read the credits if you haven't already.

Those are his kids.

Director's license, I suppose.

Oh, and for any other of you who don't read the credits... if Gimli and Treebeard sounded similar to you, there is a reason.

Kindly, Chuck left the lights off through most of the credits (but not all). And for once, we weren't the only ones staying seated to the very end.

And yes, we gave the popcorn-spilling band member a ride home.

Wouldn't you?