Crystal Skulled

For the past several days, I've been pretty worked up about the new Indiana Jones movie. First, as a longtime fan of both treasure and bullwhips, I've always loved Indiana Jones. If I got to be one fictional character for a weekend, he's probably the top choice. Unfortunately, I don't know about this George Lucas character; he's done well for himself lately in desecrating childhood heroes of mine. Whenever I'd think about this movie, I'd get excited about all of the possibilities and then I'd remember the great, swooping mane of Lucas and quickly want to wet myself.

I put all of this past me yesterday and actually saw the film in question. My verdict? I enjoyed it thoroughly. I didn't enjoy it so much that my firstborn will be named Crystal Skull Powell, but at the same time, I'll certainly buy it when it comes out. The ending was a shade too weird for me, but it still finishes a strong third between the Last Crusade, which is excellent, and Temple of Doom, which I haven't seen in over 20 years because it scared the pee out of me back then.

One of the weird things about growing is revisiting really strong experiences. When I was little, I couldn't stand jalapenos because they were just too hot. Now, I eat them regularly and carry them in my pocket for good luck. Back then, I hated jumping into cold swimming pools and now, I've come to hate lukewarm bodies of water. Something tells me that, after all of these years, Temple of Doom will still scare the pee out of me.