Eighty and Oscar

Tomorrow is my father’s 80th birthday.  Happy birthday, Dad!

Sunday is Oscar® day, when the Academy Awards are presented.  Hooray for Hollywood!

The above-stated occasions may seem to most as two random calendar entries, but to me, they are inextricably linked.  For those who are unaware of my upbringing, my parents separated and divorced when I was in grade school.  While the intervening years have dulled my memory, I do recall a number of weekend matinees that my dad took us to see: “Robin Hood”, “Pete’s Dragon”, “Superman”, “Star Trek” and more.  I remember the hours in the dark at the General Cinema Theater at Westgate Mall and the Brockton East Twin Cinema.   It was in those moments that I gained a love for movies – good movies, bad movies, all movies.

In thinking about these memories, some more than four decades old, I am reminded of the love my dad had (and has) for my siblings and me, and the love I have for him.  While we spent few nights under the same roof, we spent hours together every weekend.  I remember waiting for him to pick us up (making a game of counting cars of a randomly particular color) and I cannot recall ever being disappointed when he never arrived.  We had inside jokes (ordering “pine tree floats” at MerMac’s and trying to spell the name one of his old bosses, S. Gunnar Myrbeck), ate hundreds of hamburgers and watched dozens of movies.

A wise son brings joy to his father, but a foolish son brings grief to his mother. – Proverbs 10:1

As the years have passed and the miles have grown between us, my meetings with my dad have grew more infrequent, but my love for my dad and my love for the movies have remained.  I appreciate all those afternoons, with or without popcorn, that we shared watching the silver screen.  I think about that as I take my children to the movies, tell the same corny jokes and buy the same fast food.   I love you, Dad.

Thinking about my dad taking me to the movies all those years ago makes me wonder why I love the movies so much.  I am sure it has something to do with those deep-seated emotions of my childhood.  It also has something to do with the escape the darkened theater provides: a diversion from the daily grind to exotic and fantastic places.  Mostly, I reckon, it has to do with the story – dozens of accounts of love and loss, risk and rescue, life and death.  Thank you, Dad, for giving me all that.  I carry a part of you every time I buy a ticket.  Happy Birthday!  Maybe one day soon we can catch one more movie together.

For what it is worth, after seeing most of the nominated films (there’s still time to finish the challenge), I would give the Oscars to “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri”, Gary Oldman, Frances McDormand, Allison Janney and Sam Rockwell.  Knowing my track-record, I’m due to be right.

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One response

  1. Mike —

    A lovely, longing and affectionate article, indeed. Front toward the end of WWII until I was ten or so, my mother often took me to the local Lyric theater for movies on week days. I specifically remember the Warner Pathe news of the war and the horror movies like Bela Lagosi/Dracula, Boris Karloff movies, the war movies and many movies of which I understood little.

    My dad had totally different tastes, more sophisticated and selective. He took me on Sundays to the downtown Loew’s Poli theater to see Song of the South, Fantasia, Cinderella, et al. Typical of the time he would wear a three-piece suit and tie while I wore my Sunday best. We often stood in a line that wrapped around the block, sometimes in the rain. As a result I often attended two movies a week until in my twenties.

    My best friend loved Dean Martin/Jerry Lewis flicks, the “My Friend Irma” series and any and all detective movies.

    Today, I select carefully and see perhaps ten movies a year. Today’s issue is that unless a movie is a “barn burner” it disappears before I can attend it.

    Stay well and satisfied.

    Frank

    ________________________________

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