I was spending a quiet afternoon paying an enormous amount of bills and letting the government know how my Keogh plan is doing (better than last year, thank goodness) when the doorbell rang.
Scooter jumped in the other direction, which was a help, and I went downstairs and opened the door. There was a package waiting for me, and a UPS truck driving in the opposite direction.
I expected nothing. I even checked the name and address on the box to make sure it was intended for me.
Rapt with curiosity, I opened the box. And in it, what should I find (now that is genuinely crappy writing)but a DVD of Irwin Allen's Production of The Night The Bridge Fell Down! (! mine to substitute for the actual cover design which has the words Fell Down in a falling down position).
For those of you unfamiliar with the saga, or who have simply chosen to forget, I was the excited owner of a DVD of Irwin Allen's Production of The Night The Bridge Fell Down, all 2 discs of it, and had watched disc 1close to the ecstasy St. Teresa of Avila used to experience (I've started reading her biography) and put Disc 2 in only to discover it was unwatchable. I posted about that particular heartbreak and Mr. Cavin suggested trying to watch it on my computer, so I tried, and I got to almost the ending when it stopped showing, so I still didn't know who lived and who died and if Barbara Rush was ever going to stop whining and screeching about being on a bridge that was falling down in giant chunks all around her.
Then I contacted the Warner Bros. Shop, told them my sad story, and they said, "Send it back and we'll send you a new one." So I did and they did and the instant it arrived, I put it in my DVD player and watched sort of from the point I'd stopped so tragically before, and I found out who lived and who died and if Barbara Rush ever stopped whining and screeching. Life was good.
But I never anticipated getting another copy. I'm more than willing to believe the Warner Bros. Shop loves me, because I'm a pretty lovable person on my better days, but I didn't think they loved me quite so much that they'd keep sending me copies of Irwin Allen's Production of The Night The Bridge Fell Down (Discs 1 and 2).
Well, they don't just love me. They love everybody. There was a letter, which I will now quote in its entirety:
Dear Warner Archive Customer,
We recently sent replacement discs out to address a playability issue on Disc 2 of "The Night the Bridge Fell Down." It's come to our attention that some customers may have experienced playback issues with the replacement disc. Because we want to make sure all of our customers have the best playback possible, we've created a new disc for you at no charge.
Again, we appreciate your support of the Warner Archive Collection.
Warner Archive Collection
I don't know what amuses me most about all this. There's the having 2 sets of The Night the Bridge Fell Down (discs 1 and 2). There's the possibility that the Warner Archive Collection simply sent out the original bad set to people who needed replacements. There's the absurd concept that I wasn't the only person to watch The Night the Bridge Fell Down (discs 1 and 2). Then there's their recognition of my support for the Warner Archive Collection, which indeed, I have supported, both financially and emotionally. And finally, there's that warm yet austere signature. Warner Archive Collection. It reminds me of the actor, Warner Baxter, and trust me, nothing ever reminds me of Warner Baxter. Warner Oland, sure. Warner Baxter, never.
I could remove Discs 1 and 2 from the shrink wrap and watch them all over again. Or I could keep them in their pristine condition. I don't have to decide right away.
But no matter what I decide, it's good to know that I'm not the only one to suffer through Barbara Rush's whining and screeching!