As promised in the last post, here’s Gill.
Think back to when you were small, or maybe not. You may or may not remember your first trip to the movie theater. It might have been as a tag-a-long with an older sibling to see Star Wars. Maybe it was a glimmer of happiness during tough times like Back To The Future. Still others may have been scared, by being dragged by the worst baby-sitter to see Jaws. Whatever the experience you have had, it is a first.
My first movie theater adventure came in 1986. The year the Challenger explosion claimed seven lives, and Alf hopped out of his flying saucer and on to TV. It was January of that year, and my mom, sister, grandmother, and I drove twenty minutes to see An American Tale. You know No Cats In America? The little movie about the little Russian mouse?
Whatever your first movie was in theaters it was something that is there, all be it sometimes in grainy reach backs, but it is still there.
In the next installment I will attempt to explain away why seeing really bad movies is also apart of life. Bye for now.
