I am not going to rush out looking for a yellow Camaro. I will not poke every tractor-trailer at the truck stop just in case it does something out of the ordinary. I will not regard every boom box I encounter with suspicion and wariness. I will not wonder about every police cruiser--oh, who the hell am I kidding?
I WANT A CAR THAT TURNS INTO A GIANT ROBOT!!!!!
I'd settle for finding out that my mom-mobile has a secret life I don't know about (and Grocery-Getter, if you're reading this, I was the one who wanted to name you War Wagon or Sex Machine, I swear it!). Over at the neighbors, when we were admiring my neighbor's motorcycle, I did so with wary anticipation, fully expecting the damn thing to finally lose patience with the poking at it and just stand up.
That would have been the best thing ever. Ever ever ever.
I mean, I didn't expect much. An 80's cartoon, based on a toy, converted into a movie guaranteed to have most of its budget devoted to special effects and designed to appeal to the target audience of the toy, rather than the movie. The only reason I was in line for the 10:30 AM show was standing next to me--actually more like, dancing next to me, until he darted off to jump up and down in front of the movie poster until called back to avoid getting lost with all the other half-chunks doing the pee-pee dance of anticipation. Michael Bay, for pete's sake.
Let's just say, I was pleasantly surprised. Independence day is the perfect holiday for movies that burn things and blow stuff up.