On Friday, That Cowboy and I joined with several hundred tween girls to catch the premier of "Twilight," the coming of age romance movie about a young girl adjusting to life in her new hometown who starts up a thing with a boy who is one of a clan of local vampires. We loved the movie overall. It reminded me a lot of the kids I used to hang out with on the porch of Starbucks in Doylestown, PA. And it was beautifully shot and had some really good moments.
But after the movie, I, of course, was grumbling. Y'see, when the eternal question--who's cooler, vampires or werewolves?--is posed, I come down squarely on the side of the werewolves. And in "Twilight," there is, indeed, a werewolf, a devestatingly hawt native american boy who rebuilds the engine of the girls cool red pickup truck. To show her gratitude, she offers to drive him to school, and offer he can't accept as he goes to school on the res. And yet she falls for the vampire boy, he of the pale skin and the lip-gloss several shades too dark.
Alas, it is ever thus. "Oh I'll sit right here while you play the piano" is chosen over "Let's run naked through the woods."
Me? I'm a werewolf guy. Hunert percent.
It's my understanding that in the trilogy of books on which Twilight is based, Bella, the girl, does indeed get together with Jacob, the werewolf boy, in the second book. That may be worth reading.