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Tuesday, July 24, 2012
I guess babies hate Star Trek
We loved it.
Marc and I had tickets for the special showing of Star Trek: The Next Generation, which turned out to be a series of little ads for the new Blu-Ray edition of the television series and a documentary of how the show was made.
Included were two episodes that had been beautifully and meticulously remastered.
It was really, really interesting, especially for an audience full of Trekkies.
We knew all the answers to the trivia questions and, in unison, we booed every time Wesley Crusher came on and cheered every time a character said "Shut up Wesley!"
We loved getting the details and seeing the screen tests for Captain Picard.
Everything was great, worth the ticket price of $11.50 each — except we had a half dozen babies in the audience who apparently hated Star Trek.
The babies took turns screaming as their mothers tried valiantly (and somewhat foolishly) to stand in the aisles and get them to stop.
They screamed and screamed and every time it seemed they were going to stop, the loud sound effects set them off again.
And — surprise! There is a lot of loud in a Star Trek show.
The ships blast off, the aliens toss weapons, warp speed is loud, Klingons fight loudly.
We couldn't figure out why the parents thought it was a good idea to bring along these poor infants.
It got so bad one guy hollered "Take him out!!" to one of the mothers.
She finally did but another screamer took her baby's place.
Then a little kid a few rows ahead of us started coughing like he was going to throw up, over and over.
Baby screaming. Kid gagging. Baby screaming some more.
It was almost a circus.
At the end, I told Marc I was going to complain because the tickets were so expensive and I hadn't seen any effort on the part of Cinemark to help shepherd out the noisemakers.
We were waiting for the manager (who actually gave us free passes for a future show to make us feel better) when we saw the babies come by.
One, two, three, four, five. This one crowd of folks had brought five babes-in-arms. Some looked to be only a few weeks old.
No wonder they screamed.
Their poor little eardrums must have been shattered and they'll have baby nightmares for weeks.
As will we.