THAT IRRITATING KID IN THE THEATER

The Majestic Theater, Dallas
image from eclairefare.wordpress.com

My parents had the habit of taking the whole lot of us (we were a family of six) to the movies at least once or twice a month -- usually to one of the big, gorgeous downtown theaters in Dallas, where I grew up, like The Tower, The Palace, or my personal favorite, The Majestic, pictured above. Often it was on a Sunday evening, when we probably should have been a few blocks away attending choir practice and evening service at First Methodist Church. But, Sunday evening was "Sneak Preview" night, when you got to see two movies for the price of one, and Dad couldn't resist a bargain like that!

Now, we four kids were spread out over a span of twelve years, so I would imagine it was pretty difficult to find movies that would interest, and be appropriate for, the entire family. Plus, I don't think they even had a rating system back then. Unfortunately for my parents, they were saddled with a kid who had the terrible habit (at least as far as they were concerned) of always asking questions when there was something she didn't understand. Of course, I knew you weren't supposed to talk during movies, so I made sure I always "WHISPERED" these questions!

My dad's favorites were war movies and westerns. I hated both, especially the war movies, where I usually spent most of the movie trying to cover my eyes and ears at the same time. Not easy! These movies made no sense whatsoever to me, and I remember saying, "Psssst! Mom! Why do men fight wars?" "They have to Sweetie. It's their duty." "But why do they even have wars. They're so stupid!" "Well, it's usually because someone got greedy and decided to take something that didn't belong to them." "And that's why they make all the men go kill each other?" "Pretty much." "Well men are stupid! They could never make me do that. I'd just go hide where they couldn't find me. I'm sure glad girls don't make wars."

We also went to see each new James Bond movie as soon as it came out, which I didn't mind so much. I remember one in particular, which had a lady in it named Pussy Galore. "Pssssst! Mom! What's so funny about her name? Why does everyone laugh whenever they say Pussy?" Of course, as soon as I asked that, everyone near us started snickering. "See? Like that!" Her only response this time was a fierce glare and a "Shush! We'll talk about it at home!" In retrospect, I'm thinking she was probably just stalling for time, so as to come up with some plausible way to skirt the truth. I think she made up something ridiculous about it being a nickname for women with big bazongas, which I really wasn't buying, but even I was smart enough not to accuse my parents of fibbing!

I bet they were both just tickled to death when I was blessed with, not one but, two younguns, who questioned absolutely everything. I was pretty tickled myself.