The Prisoner

When I was in high school, I knew this girl, a year older than me, named Janet. Janet's family was over-achieving. Her brother had been one of the top finalists in the Westinghouse science competition (now Intel sponsors it). Their whole family had gone to Princeton (dad, all the kids). For a year or so, she and her family had lived in Massachusetts, then came back to Tennessee.

Our high school, unlike some nearby high schools, lacked a debate class and debate teams. (The following edited for clarity, as per Al's suggestion). When Janet returned, she helped organize a debate club, where she was president. As she was the only one who knew any debate, this made sense. That is also made sense that she probably started the club to pad her college applications wasn't so clear to me then, but makes some sense to me now. At the time, I saw it as an opportunity to learn to debate, learn to speak in public. I was awful at both.

High school debate has been around a long time, and so typically, former debaters teach these courses and field teams for competitions. These are "real" debates. While presidential debates are hardly anything of the sort (they are Q&A sessions, with liberal amounts of spin thrown for ill measure) often relying on emotion rather than reason, these debates favor sounder forms of reasoning.

The format is this. Each year, a topic is picked. Students then research the heck out of them. Books with plenty of facts are made available. Budding lawyers see this as a kind of training for a future career (mock trials fit in this category too). Typically, two people to a team. Two argue for the topic, two against. There's a time limit to present an argument, present a rebut, present a rebut to the rebut, and once more. Then, both sides present closing arguments.

Since the format is timed, debaters sometimes learn to "spread", which is to speak awfully fast, a la Jon Moschita (he used to do the FedEx commercials).

I had forgotten this, since it was so many years ago. I can't say I was even a good debater, because I was pretty nervous speaking, and couldn't produce cogent arguments on the fly. Even so, I thought it would help me with speaking (it didn't).

Rocket Science is a film that's loosely about debate, though it feels more like a Wes Anderson film. While comparisons have been drawn to Election about an ambitious girl who needs to be class president, and the civics teacher who opposes everything this girl stands for, Rocket Science is not that malicious.

Indeed, it's a kind of fantasy, about a painfully shy guy, who stutters, whose mom kicks out his dad, then begins dating a Korean American judge (the Asians are a bit too caricatured for my tastes, but it does show the diversity of our society). Ginny is the object of his affection, a debater whose successful partner suddenly freezes one day (diversity rears its head, as the opposing debate team's male representative is Indian American) during the debate championships, and she seeks, in this repressed kid, a new partner, perhaps serving as Professor Higgins to Hal (the pressed kid) as Eliza.

Much like Wes Anderson, music plays a big role in this film, as do Hal's awkward moments (exaggerated to effect).

And I'd have a full review had the bulb not been dying, and the theater manager come in to say he'd have to replace this hot, hot bulb, requiring at least 45 minutes to cool before it could be replaced.

And why was I watching this movie?

I had wanted to see it, of course, but I hadn't expected to see it then. I was being held prisoner by the car dealership. Not exactly literally, but close enough. I was in for routine servicing, which means they were not only going to charge an arm and a leg, but also ask if you wouldn't mind giving up vital organs while you were at it. I'm sure, somewhere by my name, is the word "Sucker", as in, offer any expensive service, because this guy will take it.

And I end up taking it because I think that any time I spend in preventive care is better than dealing with it unexpectedly in the shop.

But everyone knows the dealer charges at least 50% more than a regular mechanic, if not more. Odd that they have five people up front, who seem perpetually busy, but doing what? They don't repair a thing. They are there to essentially convince you to get more servicing. And man, do they always seem busy for a job that shouldn't require that much inattention to customers.

They have little incentive to do what's in your best interest, but at least they aren't so egregiously awful as to recommend everything under the sun.

And yet, because I don't really want to find another mechanic to do fixing, I let them do the work.

And even though I came in at 7:30 and figured I could be out by maybe 9, I had to stay til noon. Amazingly ridiculous. The only saving grace is that it's right in downtown Bethesda, and there are other things to do in the meantime.

Including watching Rocket Science.

Right now, I'd have to say car dealerships are down there with, I dunno, torturers? as the least desirable people on the face of the Earth. I would love if the government would send in people to get car repairs and for every useless repair, the mechanic would get fined. Indeed, I think people should go through someone that does diagnosis (much like a doctor) and someone else that does the repair.

It's honestly too bad that places like Honda and such who could do a lot to make the experience nice and honest, simply does what everyone else does, which is to take their money due to their ignorance.