Kevin Van Hentenryck #TFW

While attending the world renowned UofA, a dorm mate dragged me to see Basketcase.  He was adamant that it was a great movie and that I needed to see it, if only to make me a well-rounded individual.  I was not his first invite.  Several others bailed on him after he described the story.

Determined to be the cool, brave one, I agreed to go. This movie wasn’t shown on campus; we needed to go to a little hide-away of a theater called the Loft. The theater was small and on the second floor of a building.  If remembered correctly, the building leaned little. It has seen better days.

So we went. We bought out tickets. We walked up crickety stairs and over moaning floor boards and found some seats. It wasn’t hard to find seats. Plenty were available. I was advised I might not want to eat popcorn.

The movie began and I watched. I squirmed a little. I laughed a little. My dorm mate really enjoyed himself.

After the movie we walked back to the dorm and he excitedly talked to the friends that didn’t go.  I smiled and nodded appropriately.  

At the time, it was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. I was more puzzled over the desire to see it than the actual movie. That movie burned itself into my head…just a little. Over the decades, I barely remember anything.  But I do remember seeing it.

Kevin Van Hentenryck was quiet. He didn’t have a long line to get his autograph.  I got his signature late on Saturday. All weekend, we had been nodding to each other as I passed him. He knew I was going to get his autograph, only if I had money and time left.  When I walked up, I said he must be tired of looking at me. He smiled and said he people had different agendas. And he was happy I stopped by.

AH