Through the eyes of Maureen…
Peace, Love and Jamocha Almond Fudge
Today, I will ride cross town on the handlebars of Donnie’s 10-speed. Every kid knows all the back alleys and short cuts in this town, every hill to ride down screaming, “No brakes! No brakes!” and every pothole. He manages to hit every single one and crack up. “Oh sorry, sorry…” This immature humor keeps him entertained at my expense. I endure all this because I want my Thrifty ice cream. Three scoops for 15 cents.
As we pass the Studio Drive-in, they are changing the marquee to advertise the next movie playing. The Fortune. “Hey, I remember that set. I got invited. You had to sneak in,” I recount. “I saw you and Jimmy hiding in the church tower. I flipped you the bird!” I laugh. “I remember it well.” he mutters as he purposely hits another pothole. Watching that guy put the letters up gives me a thought, nay a brilliant idea. I can feel the lightbulb shining over my head. “Hey, we have a marquee… Ouch!” another pothole jolts the idea from my brain…
We sit outside of Thrifty’s on some kid rides that we are way too big for. We choose the stagecoach as there is room for two. He politely asks, “Should I put my last quarter in and fire this bad boy up?” “No thank you” (I’m too proud to tell him I am already saddle sore from the ride over.) After some vanilla, strawberry and jamocha almond fudge, we head back. Pretty soon the streetlights will come on, my cue to get home.
I remember my plan in sewing class, the next day. I tell Ms. Burum I want to make a banner. I want to paint a message on it like, “Go Big Blue.” I ask her what type of material I should buy. “About three yards of 54” vinyl should work well,” she concludes. Bless her heart, she thinks she is helping to boost student pride. She will never know she is an accomplice to a young trespasser’s quest.
It’s a tough choice spending my hard-earned babysitting money on vinyl and I’m not talking about 33rpm vinyl. I guess I can go without Slurpees and Abba-Zabbas for a while.
I know Donnie will buy in to the simple plan. I catch him on his way home from school. I excitedly explain, “We will hang a sign. The sign will display what is, Now Playing on the theater marquee in MGM!” “Sure, no sweat,” he agrees, like it’s a routine request. I’ll bring the material and you get the paint.” “Sure thing!” This leaves me feeling a little dumbfounded. However, I just shrug my shoulders and head home to a mountain of homework. I guess it’s just another day in the lot to him…
We make the sign in Donnie’s backyard. Mrs. Norden peeps her head out now and again. “It’s for a special presentation!” I blurt out. She gives us the fisheye as she sees it drying out on her clothesline. She just goes about her business with a certain non-spoken approval. I love it when Mrs. Norden is home. She makes Donnie offer me refreshments. Tang? Why yes, please. Ice? If it’s no trouble… They have a new-fangled fridge with an ice maker. No more refilling trays in the modern age. His mom makes him offer me some jelly tarts. He is clearly reluctant to give these homemade treats up, so naturally, I generously help myself. Mmm, mmm delicious! I make sure to emphasize my enjoyment of every bite. That’ll show him for riding me over all those potholes I think to myself.
Once the sign is dry, I roll it up, tuck it under my arm and bring it home. Now, we just need a quiet day in MGM. Christmas Day will present just that opportunity.
Merry Christmas Baby
We meet at the laundry room behind my apartment and exchange gifts. St. Christopher’s. Just a secret between us two. We’re not mushy about it. Today, we’ve got an agenda. I’ve got the sign. Donnie carries a long-handled broom and a roll of duct tape. He is wearing a bright red Santa Cap. Even Bronco Bob wouldn’t shoot Santa on Christmas morning…would he?
The North Pole…Theater District
We are armed with stuff we got in our stockings. He is toting a couple of toy paratroopers. I have a pocket full of mini candy canes.
Our antics today are a little naughty but should prove harmless. Our mission: to hang the banner on the marquee to promote what is “Now Showing” at a backlot near you.
We swiftly make our way over to 5th Avenue with sign and broom in tow. The marquee is quite high, so I get up on Donnie’s shoulders. The top left corner of the sign is being lifted by the broomstick. I need to stick it to the marquee. Once that’s done, the rest will be easy. It is heavier than I thought but fairly easy to control. This is complicated by the fact that we are laughing, and Donnie I think is purposely wobbling. “Stand Still!” We’re determined, we’re focused, we’re screwed! We WAY underestimated this. It’s too high! Abort! Abort! I say and nearly tumble to the pavement. Oh well, it was fun getting up on Donnie’s shoulders anyhow.
We’ll have to work from the top like billboard hangers, he says. Genius except for the up high scary part. We climb the stairs to the top of crow top to survey our options. I understand the name now. “Proceed with ‘Caw’- tion” I nervously pun.
It’s because crows congregate on wires that are suspended over the street. They were once used, in conjunction with black tarps, to create the illusion of nighttime in daylight. From the rooftop, you can easily see that this 4-story structure is the hub of the lot. It may have been the hub in the past. As you look down from above, you see four different roads below. They take four separate shapes and lengths.
Wires converge on this roof, like the mast of a pirate ship. The spot where you would climb with a telescope looking for land. Old, rusted metal wires with rings attached spread out like a Spirograph. Donnie starts playing on this roof which overlooks the entire city. “The wires can be balanced like teeter totters,” he says. “Just hold one and stand on the other,” he demonstrates. He offers me a turn. “Thanks anyway Matey!” I impulsively refuse the offer as I regain my sea legs and clear the lump out of my throat.
These steel cables make like teeter totters and they extend over the streets in every direction.
I remind Donnie we are here on a mission and need to formulate our execution. We stare downwards to our target. Then we both look at each other at exactly the same time and announce, “Santa was here!” To our amazement, we see ladders. They are set up leading from the windows of the 3rd floor to the actual marquee itself.
We go back down two floors and climb out the window. We descend the ladder when suddenly my enthusiasm takes a beat. This set was used in many old timely classics. It featured in The Long, Long Trailer with Lucy and Desi. Therefore, the structure itself is vintage, classic MGM too. I am hesitant, so Donnie steps forward “I’ll take it from here.” “He is unnervingly agile, traversing this unbalanced territory. Draping, unrolling and sticking the sign while I clutch my St. Christopher and say a little prayer. Donnie uses the long-handled broom in a downward sweeping motion to make sure the tape adheres all the way down. It’s working so well, like the marquee wants to be recognized again. I will have to give Ms. Burum a thank you card.
Phew! That seemed like it took a really long time and I for one am grateful to go back down. Donnie lingers for a minute to drop his paratroopers into enemy territory, which is really only 5th Avenue.
We stand back in admiration, candy canes hanging from our mouths.
“EAT MY DUST BRONCO BOB!” is prominently displayed on the theater marquee as if it were a premiere feature film starring- us!
Baby It’s Cold Outside
As nighttime brings reflections on the day, I try to imagine the look on the guard’s face. It will be when he sees our Holiday Greeting. I enjoy a satisfied smile. It’s fun having secrets. My lava lamp is hypnotizing me into a dream state, your eyes are like wax… melting wax… you’re getting sleepy… sleepy… when I hear a tap on my window. It’s Donnie. I quietly run out to greet him. He gives a cruelly long laugh at my Elf pajamas. Then, he dangles a sprig of mistletoe over my head. He expects a kiss as the old tradition commands. We reach for each other’s St. Christopher just to see if the other is actually wearing it, and smile. “I just wanted to say good night under the lights.” He is referring to the strands of lights visible from the Vet’s Memorial tower. “They’re beautiful.”
“I have one more gift for you,” he says “hold out your hand.” Wrapped in a napkin is a warm, freshly baked jelly tart. “Mmm…” I purr, as I split the gooey treat to share. “I must have been awfully good this year, Santa. They’re magically delicious.”
Our film advertisement was ripped down in less than 24 hours, most likely by Bob himself!
“My name is”, think quick, “John Orden.”
Phantom of the Backlots 