Never Bored of the Rings

A couple nights ago I finally tried out Skylon’s built-in DVD player with the Billy Connolly routine that Matt and Hannah, fellow Spacepeople, swapped for “Elizabeth: The Golden Age.” And it was pretty cool, with excellent stereo sound and a decent if petite screen. But, you know, surrounded by such natural beauty, where a look in any direction seems to yield a mountain or river or ocean or volcano even more amazing than the last, well, I just wasn’t in the mood for a Scottish guy with really bad hair cracking jokes about hemorrhoids.

I knew what I had to do. It became a mission. A quest. A thing.

Actually, my search didn’t last long enough to be a quest. I pulled in to Taupo, found The Warehouse (the New Zealand equivalent of Target) and, to my delight, they were having a DVD sale. For $21 total (US… it was NZ$30) I got the entire “Lord of the Rings” trilogy. That’s less than half of what it would have cost me for admission to any of the pricey touristy thermal parks I skipped in and around Rotorua, and now I have hours of viewing pleasure.

Yesssssss, precioussssssss…

There’s something perversely enjoyable about watching Frodo and Sam struggling up Mt. Doom while curled up under a duvet, nibbling Gingernut cookies and sipping a fine Riesling, in a cozy campervan parked on the actual slopes of Mt. Doom.

Come to think of it, I think the Fellowship would have done much better if they’d hired a Spaceship, though Aragorn and Boromir would probably fight about who got to drive and I’d hate to think of the man/hobbit/dwarf smell after a couple days (Legolas, I’m sure, would remain pleasantly-scented)… They would have had to pop open the moonroof to accommodate Gandalf’s hat, too.

Oh yes, I have a moonroof.


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