Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull grossed $126 million in the box office this weekend. If I had it my way, Indiana Jones would have grossed $125,999,993 this weekend because I want my $7 back. The movie was disappointing to say the least. When I have kids and start to share my favorite things with them, they will be allowed to only watch the first three Indiana Jones movies, and even then I might take out Temple of Doom. I left the movie feeling simply betrayed. It hsould have been titled Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Greedy Director/Producer who Destroys Fond Memories. Or in short, IJKGDPDFM, as the internet kids would say.

I never grew out of my love for Indiana; in fact, his character has sharply influenced my life. I remember first seeing Raiders of the Lost Ark and being captivated by Harrison Ford’s character. He was everything a hero should be, courageous, humorous, humble, flawed, dashing, and educated. No catharsis was necessary for you to relate to Jones Jr. Something about that movie struck a cord in me and I have been fascinated with history ever since. I was the kid who was 16 and still excited to go to Disneyland just so I could go on the Indiana Jones ride because I had never been, and loved every minute of it. And yes, I bought a $40 mock fedora. I wanted the bullwhip but it was a school trip and weapons were not allowed.

Raiders showed audiences everywhere how “cool” history could actually be. Of course, when I hit middle school I realized that actual archeology was nothing like Indiana Jones but it didn’t matter since the message was already absorbed. I even pursued archeology as a viable major in college during my freshman year of college but then quickly learned my talents rested in other spots along the academic spectrum. Point being, the Indiana Jones trilogy inspired a lifetime passion in me, something not a lot of things can claim.

I begged my parents to let me rent the Temple of Doom on VHS but they refused because they heard about the infamous ripping-out-heart-scene and decided that was not suitable for a boy who was four or five. I’m glad they didn’t, but that’s another story entirely. When The Last Crusade came out I was the ripe age of seven and my father took me to see it. I was amazed, even more than when I had seen Raiders for the first time. It’s still my favorite and in my opinion the end of the Indy series.

Why is it the end? Because the two hour crap-fest that I was suckered into was nothing like the first three. It started off innocently enough with Ford making fun of his character’s age and his new limitations. It fit and I was thinking that this might work. Then, about 2 minutes into the movie when the mention of aliens first cropped up I turned my back on the feature. This wasn’t Indiana Jones. Indiana Jones doesn’t care about aliens or spaceships; he is more concerned about finding the cross Jesus was crucified on, or some other religious antiquity. Something human, something people across time can connect with.

It shocked me to learn that the Crystal Skulls are real. The myth that there are 13 is also whispered among historians, so I guess part of the series was based on fact, albeit loosely. I feel saddened that kids who have never known the original Indiana Jones watch this and then think the others will be like this new, shiny, Indiana Jones. Ironic because Ford is anything but new and shiny. They might go back and watch the originals, maybe even like them, but most likely will prefer the new Indy to the old one. I suppose if it instills the same passion that Indy gave me then there is no harm done, but come on. I mean come on. The X-Files is supposed to deal with this garbage. The new X-Files should have paid for this script and adapted it to the adventures of Moulder and Scully, and then I would have actually liked it because that is what the X-Files deals with. The new Indiana Jones felt so foreign, like a one-night-stand. Sure, it’s fun at the moment, but when you wake up you’re probably thinking about the last girl you dated and missing that comfort because you are sleeping on opposites sides of the bed with your recent conquest and not in her arms. Then you hit the bottle. Wet, lather, wash, rinse, and repeat if necessary.

I was really looking forward to this movie and I genuinely felt like a kid before I saw it, all giddy with the possibilities. Then, I felt like an adult after it was over. Maybe I’ll need to go back to Disneyland and go through the ride again to recapture the magic again. Then a trip through frontier land because animatronic presidents and ghosts are the shit.