Going to the Movies

[Sunday Scribblings prompts us this week to write about "The Date." I found my thoughts wandering about, thinking of things one might do on a date and when I thought of going to the movie theater, this true story about my mom came to mind.]



My mom grew up in the Depression. She says that they didn't know they were poor because pretty much everyone in town was in the same condition. In those days most fun and entertainment had to be homegrown and cheap. But somehow Mom scraped up enough money to go to the movies nearly every weekend. There was one movie theater downtown (keep in mind that this town had only about 5500 people in it, so it wasn't a big place) and the marquee announced the movies to be shown each week. There were usually two afternoon shows (matinees) and then evening showings as well.

The theater often held special events to attract audiences. They would have door prize give-aways, and sometimes they let people buy chinaware place settings very cheaply with each movie ticket purchased. It was not just entertainment; it was a social event. Even if you weren't going into the theater, you might go to chat with other people who were around because that's where everyone was.

Mom retells going to the early show and staying for the second showing. She watched pretty much whatever was on, since it was only one screen and the good only way besides newspapers to get a glimpse of worlds outside her own.

But over time my mom fell out of the practice of going to the movies. By the time I was a kid, we went to very few, and by the time I was old enough to go on my own, she wasn't interested any more. She said they were too loud, too violent, or too indecent.

There was one occasion, however, when friends talked my parents into going to the movies with them. It was to be a grown-up night out, three couples out to the movies while babysitters watched the kids. The movie that night was an action flick.

Now these adults liked drinking beer better than soda, but the movie theater only sold soda. They decided to bring some anyway. Some of them would put a can of beer in their pocket or purse to sneak it in. And while they were sneaking stuff in, they decided to bring their own popcorn. Why pay movie theater prices, they thought, when we can pop our own at home? So the adults met at our house and Mom popped popcorn with her new hot air popper. They divided the popcorn into little plastic baggies, twist-tied the tops and dumped all the bags into my mom's large, slouchy, leather purse, which she had emptied for the occasion.

Off they went, buying tickets, bypassing the concession stand, and finding seats in the back row. By previous agreement, they waited until the movie's first gunfight before opening the cans of beer. The noise of he gunfire covered the popping of the tops. They were pretty pleased with themselves and I imagine them grinning like little kids.

Now for the popcorn. My mom unzipped her leather bag and reached in for a baggie of popcorn to hand down the row. It was then she discovered a flaw in their plan. The heat from the freshly-popped corn had melted the seam on the little bags and all the popcorn has spilled loose inside the large, floppy bag.

They didn't let that slow them down -- they just passed the whole purse back and forth among the six of them instead. Not what they planned, but it worked!

As for the movie, well, Mom hated it. She said it was too loud and too violent. I think Mom has been to the movie theater maybe 5 times since 1975 and I'm pretty sure she only liked it once. But the movies that she saw as a kid she still loves. She'll find one showing on a cable TV channel and settle in for a good time.