I love movies. Some of my fondest memories growing up were surrounding movies and TV. I’m certain much of that was because I got to lose myself in the story or the action, away from my white bread, depressing life.
And, at some age, going to the movies with your PARENTS? Please! That’s for little children.
One time, my Dad and I were, as he called it, “batching it.” I don’t remember exactly where she was, but I think my stepmother was visiting her brother for a couple days. And, I was a teenager, and wanting to do anything but hang out with my Dad.
“Let’s go to the movies, tonight.”, he announced. (This was during the Summer.)
“Oh, cripes”, I thought. Actually, I probably thought some stronger oath, something I wasn’t allowed to even whisper.
We finished whatever forgettable dinner we were having, and off to the movies.
And, my Dad headed for a drive-in theater, on South Central Avenue! (I know it’s no longer there, but, if I were to go there in daytime, now – instead of the late 60’s – I’d be armed and with armed friends).
Times have changed.
And the marquis read: THE DIRTY DOZEN / KELLY’S HEROES
Now, I don’t know if my Dad thought I needed some testosterone, or just thought this was a good ‘boy’s night out’ for a teen and his father, but, I was impressed!
And what fun we had!
Nazis getting killed, stuff being blown up, hijinks against the brass, what was not to like?
AND, the snack bar!
I remember another time seeing BIG JAKE / something forgettable. I always liked John Wayne.
In retrospect, even though we did other things together, like fishing, I think he figured out watching him drink too much beer and fish didn’t do much for me.
I don’t have that many positive childhood memories. This was a good one, however.