Tag: dating

Curtains for the Big Show?

My daughter and her husband went on a date the other night. They dropped their little one at our place because they wanted an evening to themselves. “A date” meant going right back to their own house and getting a few projects done without the distraction of an active one-year old. Really?  That’s a date?  I figured they’d do something like go to the movies. After all, the theater’s only five minutes from their front door.

Our one-and-only movie theater

The same theater’s only twenty minutes from our front door.  It’s the only show in (our small) town but it still carries the first-run films.  So now I’m asking myself, why haven’t we been to the theater either?  I mean, we’ve lived here almost two years yet we’ve never even been tempted.  Does our own dating routine need a little recharge?

“Stadium seating”

The truth is, like most who don’t go to the movies much anymore, the COVID years played a big part in our change of behavior.  Before then we were regular patrons, drawn to the promise of a well-reviewed blockbuster or sappy rom-com.  No matter the size of our TV or the quality of our sound at home, it couldn’t hold a candle to the big-screen experience.  Plush seats, popcorn, and larger-than-life images were the way to go.

But movie theaters struggle now.  We’re already two years past the last U.S. state mask mandate (time flies), yet theaters haven’t been able to bring back audiences in numbers comparable to the years before COVID.  The only movie to get my wife and I up off our couch and into the theater was Top Gun: Maverick, which seems forever ago now.  Much as I’d like to blame the pandemic for our recent lack of attendance, other forces are at work here:

Can’t we go back to this version?

1) Streaming.  Just as we all hunkered down in 2020 to wait out COVID, on-line entertainment options went full-stream ahead.  My wife and I cautiously subscribed to something called Netflix back then (knowing we could cancel at any time), and in no time we became the very definition of “binge”.  Today we plunk down money for several streaming services, which come and go according to what we choose to watch.  In other words, “network television” isn’t the only option to the big screen anymore.

2) The cost.  A few weeks ago, my wife and I binged the twelve-episode first season of a Hallmark Channel series, for $10.79.  Season 2 cost us $25.37 for the same number of episodes.  Season 3?  $26.99.  Sneaky streamers, huh?  They get you hooked on the first season, then charge big-time for the rest.  But here’s the thing.  Those thirty-six hours of television cost us less than two dollars an hour.  A movie in the theater runs four to five times that much.

3) The annoyances.  Before online tickets, you could show up at the box office and be reasonably assured of getting a seat, for the face value of the ticket.  Now – for the popular movies at least – a “walk-in” is virtually impossible. You’re going to pay fees, whether for the online service itself, the movie’s time of day, or the theater’s better seats.  Once you’re in your seat the annoyances bloom, whether the advertisements before the movie, the cell phone going off in the next row, or the couple behind you who simply can’t stop talking throughout the show.

4) The product.  IMHO of course, the movies being made today simply aren’t what they used to be.  Those mainstream blockbusters and adorable rom-coms of yesteryear have given way to so-so remakes, Marvel characters, and independent films that rarely appeal to the masses.  Sure, I could (and probably should) expand my horizons to other film genres, but first you’re gonna have to address items 1), 2), and 3) above.

Will the show go on?

The summer blockbusters begin Memorial Day weekend but they’ve taken a hit this year because of last fall’s writers/actors strike.  Movie theaters may be a little – ahem – breezy as a result.  They’ll aim to draw in more patrons with re-releases of films gone by, mini film festivals, and sales of film-related merchandise instead (themed popcorn tub, anybody?)

The sustainability of the movie theater is in question, the same as the drive-in that died before it.  Will the product and price attract enough patrons to keep the experience viable?  Will a trip to the movies morph into a wholly different kind of experience (like dinner, drinks, and a movie, or a stop at the in-house video game arcade first?)  And will the concept of a movie-house subscription ever be more attractive than simply buying a ticket?

All good questions there.  Whatever happens, I hope the curtains don’t close on the big screen for good.  When a film is worth watching, alongside an audience willing to behave, it’s a great date night.  Without the movies, my wife and I might be forced to complete a few more projects around the house.

Some content sourced from the CNN Entertainment article, “Movie theaters are getting creative to appeal to audiences”.

Blame it on the Dutch

Last Saturday, after the umpteenth edition of dinner-and-a-movie with my wife (or in this case, movie-and-a-dinner), we arrived back home to a phone message from the restaurant, saying I’d left my credit card behind. I never make that mistake. Let me rephrase – since my wife reads this blog – I almost never make that mistake.  Credit the restaurant for taking our phone number when we arrived, “just in case we need to contact you later”.  Credit the very nice bottle of wine – empty by the end of the meal – for contributing to my forgetfulness (though not to my driving).

Hey, at least I paid the bill before I left my card behind.  Because that’s what I do when it comes to nights out with my wife.  The gentleman pays.

“The gentlemen pays” is up for judgment in the new world order.  “Paying etiquette” – especially on first dates – has become a lot more complicated with modern social conventions (i.e. dating apps).  As if first dates aren’t stressful enough already.

Whether the guy invites the girl out for a drink, or the guy invites the girl out for dinner, or even the girl invites the guy out for dinner, you’d be inclined to say he/she who does the inviting picks up the bill, right?  I know I would, but it’s not that simple.

“A drink” (as in, the result of a swipe on the Tinder app) implies a quick meet-up, where one or both parties dance around the potential for a longer-term relationship.  If this really is the agenda (and nothing else), I’d argue both parties split the bill.  Could get awkward.

“A dinner” (as in, the result of a well-designed profile on the eHarmony app) implies a more serious stab at a relationship.  In this case I’d argue the “inviter” pays the bill, not the “invitee”.  Unless you’re in New York or San Francisco.  Social convention in those cities leans towards both parties splitting the bill, since restaurant tabs flirt with the $200 mark. Not exactly disposable income for most young people.  Could get awkward.

In “the girl invites the guy” (as in, the Bumble app, where only she can “make the first move”), I’d argue the girl pays.  But what if the girl is “traditional”, and holds out on paying just to see if he’s a “gentleman”?  Again, could get awkward.

If “who pays?” hasn’t been decided beforehand, the mind games really kick in with gestures to pay the bill, otherwise known as “the reach”.  Some women do “the reach” to appear a team player (when in fact they have no intention of paying the bill).   Some men interpret the woman’s reach as her wish to pay; in return, somehow “looking good by not falling into stereotypes”.  Other men pounce on the woman’s reach as the perfect opportunity to suggest half and half.

Half and half is also known as “going Dutch”; a phrase with take-your-pick origins.  The most common origin ties back to the 17th century Anglo-Dutch wars (also coining the phrases “Dutch treat” and “Dutch courage”).  The more fitting origin however, comes from “Dutch door”; the farmhouse invention of two equal halves.  A Dutch door is sometimes referred to as a “split door”.  “Fits the bill”, wouldn’t you say?

Going Dutch is not as safe as it sounds.  One time my wife and I met a couple in downtown Chicago, for a pricey meal atop the John Hancock tower.  As we waited in the bar for our table, the husband knocked back several expensive drinks, followed by several more at dinner.  Imagine my shock when the dinner bill was merged with the bar bill.  The husband casually said, “let’s just split this, shall we?”

My daughter is a twenty-something, brand new to the dating scene in Los Angeles.  As far as she’s concerned, forget everything I’ve discussed in the paragraphs above.  She has one and only one rule: the gentleman always pays.  Frankly, that’s just fine with me.