I thought I had it pretty bad yesterday afternoon. Unbeknownst to me, there wasn’t enough money on my transit card for me to get out of Pickering (a Toronto suburb). This made for a very embarrassing situation when I attempted to board the bus. On top of that, when I asked the driver of the next bus (which arrived thirty minutes later) to put ten dollars on my card, he put the whole twenty dollars I had just withdrawn from a nearby bank machine.
For me to say that I was not pleased would be a huge understatement, but a few hours after that situation, none of that mattered.
Yesterday evening, I watched Fruitvale Station. In short, it’s based on the true story of Oscar Grant, who was fatally shot by a police officer who meant to use his taser, but mistakenly took out his gun. Most people who see this film already know what the turning point will be; even if they don’t, the movie begins with cellphone footage of Mr. Grant’s altercation with the cops.
As for me, I knew what was coming, yet I was so unprepared for it.
As the movie got closer and closer to the fatal altercation, a feeling of dread came over me. It started in my stomach area and eventually moved to my face. Even after the fatal shot, it did not leave me, nor would it leave me until long after the credits rolled. As a matter of fact, I was barely able to walk out of the theatre; I had to compose myself for about ten minutes before making my way home.
I am not ashamed to admit that everything which was brewing inside of me came out during those ending credits; I could not help but cry. Quite frankly, I was a wreck. I have had emotional moviegoing experiences before – Seven Pounds, 127 Hours and Les Misérables come to mind. None of them have been this intense, deep and moving. In light of this experience, I had to check myself for complaining about relatively trivial things like what happened in Pickering.
I know this post has nothing to do with mashups, but I can’t help it. Ultimately, there is more to life than bastardizing music…