It’s human nature to believe our hearts are “filled up.” Yet time and again, we make space for new additions. New family and friends, new love and expression. I once believed my faith in art to be at capacity. But then I saw Interstellar… and shit got real, y’all.

Here are five terrifying signs that I’m obsessed with this film.

5. I delayed a date to take my best friend to Interstellar.



I know this sounds bad. But believe me: I made the right call. When we did go out… well, picture Cooper and Miss Hanley debating NASA in a half-empty Applebee’s.



4. Auto-correct insanity.

Today’s world moves quickly. In the shadow of social media, attention rapidly decays. That puts all of us at risk of embarrassing auto-corrects.

As I typed out a message, my iPhone mocked me.

“When I posted the intern Interstellar ad on Idealist Interstellar, I included Interstellar some language about follow up.”

My eyes widened. A grim feeling twisted my stomach. My fixation is so strong that Siri can’t conceive of my discussing another topic. I can’t help but wonder what will happen when I really need her…



3. I dream in 70 mm IMAX.

I don’t like staff meetings. No amalgam of participation, vacant stares, and email-checking can properly pass the time. The conference room seems to orbit a black hole.

Most of my dreams are normal (I missed a class and didn’t finish school; I have a dog I forget to feed; Hulk Hogan pelts me with bird seed in a homeopath’s waiting room), but Interstellar ignited my imagination.

As my Dream Self prepared for a staff meeting, an ex-girlfriend strode in.

“What are you doing here?” Dream Self asked.

“Undoing a mistake!” she cried. “Can we talk?”

“I can’t. I have a staff meeting.”

“It’s okay! I can wait.”

A sad smile crossed Dream Self’s face. “When I go into that meeting, time’s going to change for me. It’s going to run more slowly,” he explained. “When I come out, you might be my mom’s age.”

Her eyes set in determination. “I’ll be here,” she whispered.

Three PowerPoints and a retirement speech later, Dream Self returned to the lobby…

2. When I’m parallel parking, I pretend it’s the docking scene.

The worst part of living in the city is parking. There’s 2,000 spaces for 5,000 people. Sundays unspool like a scene from “The Purge.” Moreover, I’m terrible at parking; even free from marauders, I foolishly struggle.

A few Sundays ago, I circled my apartment over and over, waiting for a car to move. After 25 minutes, a small space appeared. It was better suited to a Nano than my Hyundai. But the situation was dire: the fast food beside me was rapidly cooling. After a long pause, back rigid with fear, I knew what I had to do…

1. I drove 130 miles every Saturday for two months.



While conventional theaters phased out the film in January, the National Air and Space Museum presented Interstellar in 70 mm IMAX until the end of March. Every Saturday for two months, I drove 130 miles between my home in Maryland and Chantilly, VA to watch Interstellar on the biggest screen on the east coast.

Let’s find out what I was spending each weekend:

Ticket: $15

Gasoline: $15

Tolls: $6

Popcorn: $5

Well, shit. That’s the first time I’ve done the math. No wonder my bank account evokes the end of “The Lorax.”

In all honesty, I wouldn’t change a thing. Every dollar I spent on Interstellar enriched my life. And amazingly, I never took it for granted. I took in several viewings with the belief they’d be my last. Every time the museum extended the film’s run, I pumped my fist in jubilation. Life is short; as long as you’re not hurting anyone, you should do what makes you happy. This film will always be in my heart.

* Many thanks to ‘The Southern Dandy’ for his Microsoft Paint drawings.