Ah, great memories, going to the
kiddie movies at the Palace Theater every Saturday morning while growing up in
Hilo. This story appeared in my old Hilo
Days website, and has been borrowed and run in other websites devoted to
Hilo.
M-I-C-K-E-Y
The Mickey Mouse Club. It was the biggest weekly event that we kids
looked forward to in Hilo. Of course,
when we moved to Ekaha Street in 1950, we didn't have television, so we
couldn't participate vicariously in the television Mickey Mouse show.
But we did have our small town
version.
Every Saturday morning, hundreds
of kids would converge on the Palace Theater, just up Haili Street from the
Standard Drug Store. And for just ten
cents ("one thin dime, one tenth of a dollar"), we would spend the
next three hours in a world of fantasy.
The program would start with
contests — yoyo, singing, dance, riddles — contests of any and every
variety. Next would come the sing-alongs
where we'd follow the bouncing ball on the magical screen. By this time, excitement was building to a
point where we couldn't wait any more for the cartoons to start.
When the cartoons began, we kids
brought the house down with our "Yays" and whistles. Donald Duck's face would fill the screen,
heralding a string of three to five Disney cartoons. These were followed by a chapter of Captain
Marvel, or Superman, or Cochise, or Flash Gordon. Then, we had a Three Stooges short or two,
followed by the feature film — usually a cowboy movie starring Hopalong Cassidy,
Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, or the Three Mesquiteers.
Everything was in black and
white (except for the cartoons), and we had no wide screen then. It didn't matter.
It was great. Most of the kids would bring 15 cents, enough
for the movie and a small package of crack seed (li hing mui is still my
favorite).
Of course, I usually had a
quarter, so I could buy a 10-cent bag of popcorn in addition to my crack
seed. Interestingly, they didn't let you
bring your soda into the theater. You
had to drink it outside and throw the cup away before you entered.
Once a year they'd have a big
Mickey Mouse birthday party. For the
same dime, you'd get (in addition to all the aforementioned contests,
sing-alongs, cartoons, serials, comedy shorts, and cowboy feature) a cup of
Dairymen's vanilla ice cream, an eight-ounce bottle of Coke, and a comic
book. And they still managed to squeeze
everything into three hours.
We'd go to these things
religiously. Our regular seats were the
ones in the back of the front section (I guess it was about the 15th row).
The chairs there weren't the
regular fold-up theater seats. They were
wicker chairs — big ones. We'd get there
early, claim the chairs, throw popcorn or crack seed seeds on the people in front
of us, and generally harass the usherettes.
One of our favorite forms of
harassment was to continually ask the usherettes what time it was, and how much
longer we had to wait before the movie started.
Another was to call her over and tell her we'd dropped something under
our seat, and could she please shine her flashlight there so we could see.
I went to the Saturday morning
shows all the way through elementary school.
We didn't even have to make plans, or have someone to go with. All I had to do was catch the bus or walk to
the theater, and guaranteed, there'd be someone there I knew. Of course, when I was a small kid, we used to
go in neighborhood bunches.
Then, competition sprang
up. The Mamo Theater, which was located
on the infamous Mamo Street (home of pool halls and Filipino Cadillacs),
started a "Bugs Bunny Club."
It was essentially the same thing, except they showed Warner Brothers
cartoons, gave us comics every Saturday, and let us take our drinks into the
theater.
At first, the Mamo Theater went
head-to-head with the Palace. They did
fairly well because the concept and program was new, but eventually everybody
went back to the Palace. To regain their
lost audience, the Mamo moved its kiddie program to the noon hour, then later
gave up altogether
.
The Mickey Mouse Club programs
continued for years, even when I graduated from high school and left for
college. But it went downhill with the
advent of television. And I guess all
the black and white cowboys died off and weren't replaced.
When I was home for Christmas
the first year of college, I passed by the Palace Theater and saw the promo
billboard on the sidewalk. "Mickey
Mouse Club 9:00 A.M. Saturday," it read, "The Sins of Babylon."
The Sins of Babylon?
2 comments:
What fond memories for you! too bad we had to grow up, huh?!
I agree, Carolyn. But you know what? Growing up was easy. Staying grown up is a bitch.
Post a Comment