AFTER WATCHING Me Myself I, I walk to the Rosebud to meet Andy Spletzer. He's there with three other writers, drinking beer. I order a White Russian. After exchanging light talk, he asks me what I thought about the film. I tell him it sucks: "It's about a single woman who, get this, is depressed because she has a successful career at the expense of a stable and happy family life. So, one day she is walking to work when a speeding car accidentally knocks her out of this reality and into another dimension, where she is suddenly... a housewife!" Andy shakes his head.

"It gets worse," I say. Andy takes a sip of beer and braces himself. "The housewife from this parallel dimension is knocked into her double's lonely existence in the big city. In a word, they trade places." Andy is now laughing. "Can you guess what happens in the end?" I ask. Andy tells me exactly what happens in the end. We both laugh at this predictable and pathetic film (as if the world were already hungering for a remake of Sliding Doors), and order another round of drinks.

For some time now, this has been the system: Once or twice a week, Andy, Bruce Reid, and I meet at one of our favorite bars to talk about a screening, or discuss the state of cinema. These sessions usually last until (a) the bar is closed, or (b) we're too drunk to say anything intelligent.

Indeed it was one such talk -- which Andy had me write up as a video column and which was later posted on the CTHEORY website -- that resulted in my flying to Linz, Austria, to give a lecture on science-fiction films of the '90s. Can you believe that?! I want to thank Andy for these excellent talks, for his infinite patience, his solid film criticisms, and great sense of humor. One other thing, Andy -- please don't forget to return that Wu-Tang CD you borrowed.