Aside from a near disaster brought about by movie theater butter spilled on a slippery tile (my balance is much better than I realized, and the bucket o' popcorn was saved), I had a fabulous time at the movies last night. My husband, 9-year-old daughter, and I went to see the sequel to A Night at the Museum. The theater was crowded, but the children were all polite and relatively quiet. The rescued popcorn and enormous Coke hit the spot. And wow...I loved the movie.

I love lots of movies. In the past month, I have been to the movie theater four times, seeing the Hannah Montana movie twice (have I mentioned my 9-year-old daughter?), the new Star Trek, and last night, Ben Stiller's latest. I am as enthralled in a darkened theater now, as excited the second the lights dim, as I was since the very first time I ever saw a big screen movie in the late 1960's.

My parents were unique people. My dad still is! The things I learned from them were rarely conventional, but many of those things have served me well. My love of movies is one of those things, and I learned that mostly from my mom. It's funny that I remember my first movie so well, but I do. I saw Mary Poppins at a drive-in theater, and I can still feel myself there in the back seat of my parents' car with a port-a-cribful of my little sister next to me, watching that magical nanny. My parents had me watching monster movies on Saturday nights, and my mother introduced me to Alfred Hitchcock and a place called Oz. I can still hear my mother's voice gently mocking the makers of Earthquake and the ad stating that the movie would be shown in Sensurround!, and I remember my 10-year-old mind being apprehensive about this new technology as we walked into the theater in downtown Pittsburgh. It was quite an event to go to that particular movie.

Through my teen years, I went to movies less with my parents and more with my friends, but the love for movies my mom instilled in me gave me a distinct appreciation for everything from Airplane! to Kramer vs. Kramer. Oh yeah, and that little space opera set in a galaxy far, far away whose birthday we celebrate today. An aside...it's ironic that my mother never saw a Star Wars movie in its entirety and didn't show much interest in my passion until she worried two years ago about my flying across the country to stay with a friend I'd referred to as a Stooge for a long time, for a convention of fans in a city I'd never set foot in. She got over it, though. I was determined and thrilled when I left, and she saw how I was when I got home.

I was inspired to write this entry when my daughter wondered aloud about some of the things we saw in Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian and why those things were shown as being part of such an important museum in the United States capital. Why are those things there? Why are movie icons in the same place as pieces of early aeronautics history? Because they are all part of who we are. Movies are an enormous part of who I am. I can understand, even while I laugh at and with, five friends who trek across the country in a quest to crash the Skywalker Ranch to see the early version of The Phantom Menace in Fanboys. I can bond with people from all walks of life who, like me, boldly go where no man has gone before and turn strangers into family. I can cry with any number of romantic movie heroes and heroines who put their hearts on the line for the true love of their lives. And I can envision myself gazing toward the twin setting suns of a remote desert planet with a humble farm boy who is destined to save the galaxy.

When I sit in a darkened theater watching a story unfold, I can lose myself in a magic that doesn't exist in my everyday life but can make my everyday life magic just the same. The magic of movies reaches far beyond the screen. It reaches our hearts and belongs in an honored place at the heart of a nation.

Happy Memorial Day!