Norman Reedus and the Holy Grail, Part 1

I really wanted this to be a St. Patrick's Day post, since the events described took place one year ago today (and for other, soon to be obvious, reasons).  However, to do the story justice, I had to choose either to inundate you all with the LONGEST POST YET...or divide it up.  Alas, division it is.  Hey, this just means that we have EXTRA March 17ths, right?

There are four types of women in the world:

1 - women who've not seen the Boondock Saints movies
2 - women who didn't love the Boondock Saints movies
3 - women who love Connor (played by Sean Patrick Flanery)
4 - women who love Murphy (played by Norman Reedus)

I used to belong to that first group. I completely lack anything that approaches understanding for the second group (admittedly, it's quite small).  As for #s 3 and 4?

As usual, when faced with the opportunity to do/watch something new, I balked.  Also as usual, I was given several gentle nudge opportunities to watch it. While I don't dislike action movies, this one looked like some overly violent what-the-hell-ever movie. It didn't help that people kept comparing it to Pulp Fiction (another movie that, once I finally saw it, merely confirmed my suspicion that the one scene worth watching was VERY early). No thank you.

Finally, Ms. J got fed up. She sent me the DVD, with a note on it:

"Don't fucking call me again until you've watched it. Love, Ms. J"

Fine. I'll put it on. Marshall wanted to watch it anyway. But I won't like it. Picked up my cross stitching.

And then - two exceptionally attractive men (with rakish Irish brogues) go on the most engagingly awesome vigilante killing spree ever. They're not even trying to be sexy - the movie really is a guy's guy blow'em up flick...with, um, benefits.

For the record, I'm a big, loyal #4.  I am almost silly over Norman Reedus, aka Murphy MacManus.

One of the first things a newcomer to my family will notice - we are a movie watching people.  Some people have comfort foods, some turn to the drink - and while I thoroughly enjoy both of those activities - the most consistent reassurance offered to me from the shallow end of the Pool of Life is the Favorite Movie.

I don't think that it's unique to me to be caught up in a wonderful film - to allow myself to forget who and where I am in exchange for a couple hours of escape.  Especially during that first viewing, I allow myself complete absorption into the experience.

When watching the Boondock Saints - something very rare happened.  There came a scene that hit home SO powerfully, I was jolted from my experience.  Feet that were propped up dropped to the floor.  Jaw fell open.  Arms started flailing in a bizarre mix of waving and pointing as I said:

"OH MY GOD, THAT'S ME AND MS. J...  WE WOULD BE NUTS ENOUGH TO DO THAT."

(followed closely by a slight disquiet that, of all of the buddy flicks that remind me of my best friend...it was one about vigilante killers...surely just a coincidence...)

The scene?  Connor and Murph are crawling through a ventilation system, on their way to "drop in" on the crime lords they've come to kill.  For most people, this would be a time for nerves, or for an extra effort to cooperate with each other.  For them, well, they're brothers and they're irritated with each other.  So when Connor finally gets annoyed enough with Murph, he punctuates his sentence with a quick pop on Murph's head with a flashlight.  Murph expresses his displeasure by punching his brother, and they start wrestling in the air shaft.

We would do this.  We have the (possibly justified) confidence in ourselves to act with complete disregard for the danger inherent in any situation if we have to bang something out between us first. 

Which means - not only is this movie funny.  Not only are they sexy.  But ho.ly. crap...it's a flick about Ms. J and myself.

Marshall joked that it must suck that I don't get to "be" (identify with) the character I love...for while I dearly love Murphy, I most certainly am Connor.

Undaunted, I quickly retorted:

"Oh, no.  It just means that these are qualities I love so much, gender doesn't matter."

Onward go the next 7 years.  I've bought this movie many times (since I keep giving it away).  I've converted many people to the Flock, as it's called (Trekkies, Mysties, Brown Coats...the Flock).  We lived in a constant (if low intensity) state of hope for a sequel.

Then.  In 2009, All Saints Day is released.  Since the first movie never made it to theaters (they wore Navy peacoats and it was due to release right after the Columbine tragedy), the sequel was only a partial release.  We did not get to see it in the theaters (I. Hang. My. Head. And. Cry.).

However, both Ms. J and I are Facebook "friends" (so to speak) with Troy Duffy.  It's March 2010 and I get a call from her.

MS. J: So you're going, right? (you lucky bitch)
ME:  To what?
MS. J:  What do you think?  The Boondock Saints Party in Boston?  He's going to be there, you know.
ME:  Weeeeellll, Boston's a couple hours away...I'd have to get a babysitter...
MS. J:  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???  GET A DAMN SITTER.  ARE YOU SERIOUSLY NOT GOING TO GO?  NO.  YOU'RE GOING.  GODDAMN STRAIGHT YOU ARE. 
ME:  Okay, fine.  I'll look into it.  I'll call Elle, and see if she wants to go too.
MS. J: (growling) You do that.

To celebrate the 10 year anniversary of the Boondock Saints (whose action starts on St. Patrick's Day, in Boston) and  the DVD release of All Saints Day, they threw the party at the Paradise Club on Commenwealth Ave. in Boston.  In attendance were the bands whose songs were featured on the soundtrack, Troy Duffy, Bob Marley (Det. Greenly), Daniel DeSanto (Ottilio Panza), David Della Rocco (who pretty much plays himself)...and...(deep breath)...Norman Reedus.  Sean Patrick Flanery was not there (the one thing keeping Ms. J from having a complete meltdown over her inability to attend). 

But Murphy was going to be there.  It took Ms. J delicately making that point for me to digest it.

Now I am well aware that Murphy is not real.  He's a fictional character and it's actually a fellow named Norman Reedus that I could possibly meet.  However, I also know (astrology geek that I am) that Reedus is a Capricorn...and I love Capricorns.  A lot.  While this has no real meaning for most of my life, it's nice to know that, when I meet the man, I'll be a little star struck, but I'll like him just fine (none of that, "aw man, he's actually an asshole" business).  I let myself get invested in going.

To fast forward:  Elle is HELL YEAH on board, Stella has Crikey, Johnny's with Kermit and Marshall agreed to come home early so I could stay out late.  We are ON. OUR. WAY.