35 Cents

That summer of 1959 would find me at The Wood Theatre in Woodbury. My first Saturday afternoon at the movies without my parents. The Wood Theatre is where we all went to see a movie indoors, with formality, not the outdoor ruggedness of the drive-in. It was a real movie palace, with a stage and velveteen seats. That strange and wonderful smell of mildew and popcorn and stale air conditioning. One big screen and a balcony that was only used when the house was full. We rarely bought our candy at the snack counter, opting to buy our Root Beer Barrels and Dots and Tootsie Rolls and Black Crows at the brown vending machine across the lobby. It was cheaper, and you didn't have to wait in line.
I went to my first matinee with my new friend Tommy Madden, a slightly older boy from Glenwood Ave., a short walk from our house on Walnut. We would see each other on our way to and from school, and towards the end of First Grade we had begun talking and walking together from time to time. The lake was in his backyard, and he and his brothers Ricky and Keith grew up steeped in its lore.
Even as a young boy I was a movie purist. I liked to watch in total silence, allowing the story to unfold and the images transport me to other worlds far away. Instead I was in a room of screaming, running popcorn-tossing maniacs, let loose upon the world like savages. No wonder their parents let them out for the day. These kids were crazy! If my mother were here she'd have a field day twisting kids' hair and yanking them outside to the sidewalk. I could only look on in amazement, knowing what would happen to me if I behaved like this.
There was some kind of magic show on stage at the beginning, but I couldn't really hear too much because of all the yelling and screaming.
Things calmed down a bit during the cartoons, where the violent behavior was limited to the screen.
The coming attractions brought on more screaming and running up and down the aisles, and the popcorn rained down from the balcony above.
Finally the main attraction, what we had all come to see. Ben-Hur: the story of a man unjustly accused by the Romans and sent to the galleys as a slave. Thrilling adventure,revenge and the story of Christ all unfolded before us for three hours.
There were brief outbursts of food fighting and restlessness in some spots, but the naval battle and the magnificent chariot race kept us all riveted in our seats.
At the movie's end there was cheering and yelling and the final tossing of candy and popcorn in the air, a mad rush to the light of day and into the cars of our parents. We'd recount the thrill of the chariot race for them, and all the gory details of the battle at sea.
We'd leave out the mushy parts and the serious parts, and the Jesus parts went over most of our heads. We'd also leave out how poorly most of us behaved.
All in all it was a marvelous day.
Violence and mayhem, and a Roman Circus all for thirty five cents.
And the movie was good too.