So, I saw 127 (miserable, f’d-up) hours, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same.
Just in case you are completely out of the “stuff normal people know” loop, I’ll soon be filling you in on the ending to this movie.
Here’s what happens – guy is an adventurer, guy falls, rock falls on guys arm – and he’s stuck, and by stuck I mean f’d in the butt prison style stuck (which is the worst kind, right after arm trapped between a canyon wall and boulder stuck.) He can’t get it out. Ultimately, he cuts off his own arm with a knife. But the knife is too dull to cut through bone, so first he breaks both of the bones in his forearm before hacking away at his flesh and tendons.
What? I’m sorry, what? Who’s life is that good? People say – “You never know what you’ll do until you find yourself in that position – to which I reply – Who the F finds themselves in that position? And if I did – here’s what would have happened:
Hour 1: -Scream at top of lungs until I pass out. Then piss and deficate on self.
Hour 2-3: Drink all the water. Eat all the food. Resume screaming.
Hour 4-?: Figure out the least painful way to kill myself.
I know – It would make a shitty movie – but I’m not really cut out for that kind of stuff. My will to live is not the stuff movies are made of. It’s the stuff that wussy blogs are made of. In fact, I’m such a wimp that I’ve succumbed to my wife’s demands that I not use the “p-word” (imagine wussy with a “p”), I sit when I urinate (although, that’s more a comfort thing than a spousal request) and watching movies like 127 hrs. actually keeps me up at night.
In fact here’s a short list of my phobias: spiders, poop, sharks, germs, fights (that could involve me – I’m good with watching them at a safe distance), Karaoke (a “Baby Got Back” mishap insured I’ll never do that again), heights, mountain lions, mice (I’m on a couch lickety-split) kidnapping (even though I’m an adult) and home invasions. I once tried to explain to my wife wife that we needed a gun because if she was counting on me to defend the homestead with my fists – she had another thing coming – – until I realized I was deathly afraid of guns too.
That I might consider a self amputation to save my life is soooo far outside of the realm of possibilities it actually becomes laughable. Just watching a dramatized version on the big screen was almost too much for me to handle. While watching this scene, I writhed, squirmed, peeked occasionally through the fingers covering my eyes, and ultimately left the theatre a scared and scarred man (child.)
But whatever – I’m good with it. I love my life, just not enough to break my own bones and cut my arm off in order to keep living it. So to all you potential home invaders – I’ll be in the closet and I promise there is nothing of value in there. You’ll probably hear sobbing coming from the floor where I’ll be curled up – so don’t go in there. I promise, there’s nothing you’d want aside from some pink clothing, and some cashmere sweaters – unless those things are appealing to you, in which case I’d be happy to hand them to you through a cracked door.
-The “Big” (and I use that word lightly) Avocado.