Treme Box Set, FEMA, Homeland Security and a Birthday
K, so I decide I want the Treme Box Set. No problem. Head to Amazon. Oops, can’t do that. Pre-order only. Months go by, no release of the box set. Get a promo email from Amazon. Woohooooo! Looks like it might be released in time for Christmas. Click that mutha. “Available for pre-order.” Price 53 bucks plus change, tax and shipping. Uh huh. Thud. Crash. Deflation of anticipatory box opening joy.
Then I find this in the reviews:
“What is taking so frigging long?”, November 14, 2010
By Steve J (Mobile, AL United States) – See all my reviewsThis review is from: Treme: The Complete First Season (DVD)
I love this show and have already committed to get the DVD set as a gift for one relative, and yet they still can’t even come up with a release date?
WTF? FEMA moved faster than this.”
I’ve been laughing for days over that.
Meanwhile, I start scouring the web for other places to cop. I find a website, http://www.dvdsetshop.com. They have it! No kidding. And half the price, about $25.00. I stash the site to my favorite places figuring I’ll grab it up for Christmas. A joint present for the household. I sit smugly picturing myself going to the mailbox and finding the motherlode of Treme Season 1, lovingly opening the box, looking for the special features. Oh yes. Life is good.
So last week, with a little money in the bank, I click the saved link, self-satisfied smile on my face, fingers itching to put in my credit card info for purchase. I’ll be the first one on my block to get that Red Ryder bb gun, er, Treme box set. Up on my screen comes a notice: “This domain has been seized by ICE – Homeland Security.” Huh? I bail out and click it again to be sure. Yup, that’s what it said. I read it three times. Curious, I scour the web and find an article saying that the week before last 80,000 websites had been seized by Homeland Security. Evidently the sites were selling counterfeit, pirated, who knows what. I briefly worry that my name will now be on the no-fly list. I then grudgingly accept that not only will I not be able to get on an airplane but I will not be sitting warm on my couch placing pristine dvd’s of Treme into the player on Christmas Day. It was a cold day indeed. While Zales commercials filled the airways and Lexus put giant bows on cars in the driveway, I mourned the Treme box set.
Then today comes. December 8th. In the Catholic Church, a holy day of obligation. The Feast of the Immaculate Conception. As a Catholic school girl, I always got my birthday off, but had to go to Mass before I could open my presents, a fact of life that I resented since my sisters didn’t have to do that. It’s also the day that I remember that Jim Morrison was exactly ten years older than I, and I am reminded annually that John Lennon was killed on my birthday. (On my 27th birthday as a party raged in my apartment at 625 Ashbury #5 in San Francisco, the phone rang. My sweet Mama says, “Happy birthday, honey! Did you hear that John Lennon was shot and killed?” No. I’m not making that up!) But today I got a surprise. I share a birthday with Wendell Pierce (okay, he’s 9 years younger than I am, so what!). Me. I share a birthday with Bunk. It’ll be both of us in the bathtub in a pink bathrobe with an empty whiskey bottle tonight! Antoine Batiste and I will be eating cake and drinking ourselves silly at Bullets tonight, then he’ll play me a song, whisper in my ear in that gorgeous voice that can sink the most virtuous of Catholic girls into something that will need a visit to confession, then look at me with those eyes and make that trip to Father McIlleny worth the Hail Mary’s.
Maybe, if I hurry up and go to Mass, the doorbell will ring. It’ll be Wendell Pierce, trombone and liquor in one hand, and Treme box set with a BIG ribbon in the other.
Hey even at my age, a girl’s gotta have a dream.
Happy Birthday, Mr. Pierce.