“There is an odd synchronicity in the way parallel lives veer to touch one another, change direction, and then come close again and again until they connect and hold for whatever it was that fate intended to happen.”
-Ann Rule
One of my favorite festivals, if not THE favorite, just happens to be SXSW. The amount of talent that pours through the doors is absolutely uncanny. For the last few years, I’ve accidently just picked the festival favorites. Wellllll…….maybe I’m getting too far ahead of myself, but I’d like to think that my intuition can lead me no wrong. And in this case, yet again, I prove myself right.
Was that too much? I’m not exactly wrong here, folks!
Which leaves us here on Friday, no….Fry Day, somewhere in between Gainesville and Jacksonville, Florida. The time, near the beginning of the glorious nineties, yet sealing the deal on the eighties. What a time to be alive….errrr, in this case……..well alive works just fine.
My Lord those tees are snazzy! Wheeewww, back on topic!! Fry Day director Laura Moss celebrates not only the soon-to-be death of Ted Bundy (you may or may not have heard of him) but also the decline of the innocently minded.
For a measly 200 pennies, one could purchase a polaroid picture both adorned in fashionable ‘Burn Bundy’ print on tees anddddd a huge shit eating grin. That is, until a “distraction” interferes.
What happens next is up to you, faithful reader. But I will tell you that director Moss completely leads you down what may be the wrong path. It’s the duality that is key in this piece. Layers. You’re talking about a monumental date. Something that will forever stain the minds and hearts of millions. Yet, that becomes all backburner. What’s left in the forefront is a very bitter taste.
I won’t say coming of age. Not once. Because at what age are you coming to the realization that you are indeed, a puppet? That is, when are you willing to accept that role to begin with?
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