I was upstairs at my dad’s friend’s surprise party, learning a lesson in humility. Again and again, I was bested by the swift skill of ambling limbs on the other side of the table. Maybe air hockey wasn’t my thing. Still, I was a good sport about it and congratulated her on making me ashamed to play another game in my life. She congratulated me too, in her own way, by saying how challenging of an opponent I was, how no one in recent memory had proven to be such a worthy adversary. If I did all that, I wondered how shitty her past opponents were…maybe she only boosted my ego because she thought I was apt to do something rash in a moment of weakness, either way, I appreciated it.

I found myself downstairs, watching Saving Private Ryan with a room half full of strangers. The scene where the terrified American soldier stands trembling on the staircase as his buddy is killed upstairs, played on screen. The evil German descended the steps, much like I did, and taunted the poor soldier before departing. John Williams’s iconic music played in the background.

“Spielberg, fuckin’ Spielberg! Always with the same goddamn fuckin’ music in every goddamn fuckin’ movie! Fuckin’ Spielberg! Ahhhhhhh!” came a cry from the back of the room.

The anti-Spielberg rhetoric continued to pour out of enraged partygoer until it permeated every inch of the room; until everyone else in there began to breathe it. “Dickie! That’s enough!” someone shouted back, chastising him, “Joe’s in the room.”

I waved, and with my 11-year-old smile, offered the consolation of, “Don’t worry, I’ve heard worse.”

In reality, by then, I had said worse. And although I was truly ignorant at the time, I’ve come to realize that I too share his sentiment toward the legendary director. Fuckin’ Spielberg.

Joe Szalinski is a writer/performer from Pittsburgh, PA. In addition to writing, he also acts, makes music, and performs spoken-word and comedy. Joe regularly posts cartoons and videos to his Instagram account, @poetry_hugger.