Monday, December 22, 2008


I like movies. My best friend from high school, Annette, can attest to how many hours, DAYS we spent at the Rialto Theatre on Fair Oaks Blvd. in South Pasadena.

This is back in the dark ages, when movies were actually on FILM, and were run on PROJECTORS that occasionally broke down, accidentally burned the film, or got the sound off by a few seconds (anyone remember that great scene in "Singin' In The Rain" with the "No, No, No!" "Yes, Yes, Yes!"?).

But once you paid for the admission, you could stay there and sit through one, two, three showings - or until the theater closed for the night and they actually came in to sweep up the grotesque combination of spilled popcorn, sugary soda (this is also before diet drinks were invented - we had no idea that saturated fats, sugar, leaded paint or asbestos were bad for you), cotton candy (ditto) and Milk Duds (probably the healthiest thing we ate).

I remember seeing "2001: A Space Odyssey" at least twice at the premiere - "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" probably forty-six times - "Harold and Maude", which I absolutely adore, and everyone who knows my past is always dumbfounded by that - "Papillon", although I think just once, that was pretty sad - "American Graffiti" - "The Conversation", which in retrospect is kinda intresting, because my husband worked with eavesdropping devices for the government for seven years while he was still active duty Army.
So... probably a couple of years spent watching movies between sixth grade and college.

However, now I am still happy to rent a DVD, sit down on the couch with the remote control(s) and watch a movie. I'm old - I can't sit in a theatre, drink any kind of soda and expect my bladder to stay quiet for a one hour and a half show. At home, I can pause it, rewind, and especially watch any directors' commentary, deleted scenes, gag reels, etc.

But tonight? My husband had purchased "The Mummy" - the third one. Yes, I had seen the first - and the second - in the theatre.
So... I have just lost two hours of my life that I will never, ever have again.