Movies

You know what I most dislike about being restricted by an oxygen line tether? I miss going to a theater to see movies. I think I could spend every afternoon seeing flicks.  I love the thrill of sitting in a darkened theater with a bag of popcorn and watching a big screen presentation of someone else’s life.  I guess I’ve always liked it, right from the early Saturday afternoon westerns with Tim Holt and Hopalong Cassidy, the Johnny Weismuller Tarzans, the Gunga Dins and the King Kongs.  I saw ‘em all.  I can remember all the horror movies with the mummy and him dragging his dead leg.  I remember vividly the little girl who had a choice of underpasses to go through on her way home after dark, the moonlit one or the dark one.  She chose the moonlit one and the black cat caught her just as she reached her door and then all we saw was the blood leaking under the unopened door.  I remember the fluttering curtains and the book pages flipping in the breeze in The Uninvited.  I remember the “Slowly I turned, step by step, closer and closer” routine in one of the Abbott and Costello bits, or maybe in a Three Stooges.  I remember National Velvet and falling in love with the young, beautiful Elizabeth Taylor.  I remember Lassie, Come Home with the young Roddie McDowell.  I remember the first showing of The Wizard of Oz in 1939.  That must have been about the time I developed such a thirst for the L. Frank Baum Oz series.  My enthusiasm for the cinema must also have something to say about how little we had by way of entertainment, other than what we could manufacture on our own.  And we young kids in our tiny, provincial Mobridge, South Dakota, manufactured a lot of our own entertainment, but the movies were our window on the world back then. I really must figure out a way for me to get back to theater movies. There are too many good ones being made nowadays to just sit and wait for them on rental videos.

Two Viagra jokes:

1. Precaution on the label: “Take pill with 8-oz water to prevent a stiff neck.”

2. What do Disneyland and Viagra have in common? A one-hour wait for a two-minute ride.