Determined To Succeed

It is raining in southern New Jersey. A slow, steady rain that makes a day perfect for movie watching.

Going to the “show” as we called it was probably the top on the list of favorite things to do with my mom. On Sundays when I was a kid we’d get the Sunday paper, a couple of fresh sweet rolls from the bakery and her coffee and we’d read the paper. But while she read the news I’d flip to the entertainment/movie section to see what movies were going to open up that following Friday, read about the celebrities starring in them and see what the new posters looked like.

My mom started taking me to the movies when I was five years old. At least I think I was five because I knew I saw a couple of movies before “Star Wars” and I saw that when I was six. Hell, I not only went to the movies that young I saw crap no child should see. Stuff like “Jan Michael Vincent’s “White Line Fever,” and Diane Keaton’s and Richard Gere’s “Looking For Mr. Goodbar.” Those films were “Rated R” but my mom did something every parent should do…

…she told me “son, you know everything you see up there isn’t real.”

That simple sentence was all it took to take away the fear of horror flicks, the seeming brutality and reality of murder/thrillers and the danger of action movies. In other words, it was my mom wrapping me up in a security blanket of knowledge. That even though she surrendered me to the film for two hours she never stopped protecting me from what I saw on-screen. That was awesome and I will always love her for doing that.

But there was one time though that made me smile above all others going with my mom to the movies. It was summer of 1982, which was a decent year for films. We took the 6 Jeffrey Express bus downtown from Hyde Park and transferred to the 151 Sheridan and headed to Water Tower Place, Chicago’s signature downtown mall. Unlike most malls we’re used to this mall was built up (a necessity for any mall constructed in the middle of downtown Chicago). And nestled inside on the mezzanine level back by the Lord & Taylor and popcorn shop were the Water Tower Theaters (which, unfortunately, no longer exist).

That day I was so excited. We were going to see “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan” for the up-teenth time. You see, it was no longer playing at the theater across the street from us (my beloved Hyde Park Theater) so we had to go downtown to see it. The film (tied with the newest “Star Trek” as the best “Trek” film ever) was amazing and was over all too soon. But my mom, my beautiful, sweet and wonderfully sneaky mom said “Hey. Wanna see E.T.?”

I was confused, but I took my mom’s hand as she quietly led us into the theater about to show E.T. I was so scared. We were being so bad sneaking into a “free-ture” (free feature) but I didn’t care. My mom was at that moment the coolest mom, ever, and she was sneaking me in to see the biggest movie of all-time (at least in the days before we knew what the hell an “Avatar” was).

We watched E.T. (and yes, I cried) and it was awesome. I was having such a great movie day with my mom. And afterward, as we left the theater we walked by the teenage ushers, who I was convinced were going to throw us both in jail and throw away the key. But they did nothing. They said nothing. Hell, I don’t think they even noticed – or cared. And if they did, who cares.

The most important thing in the world was that I was with my mom, the person to whom I owe my love of movies. And while I never will be able to repay the wonderful feeling of that special day 28 years ago (God, has it been that long already), I hope she knows how much I think of her every time I go to my local multiplex…

…or stay home on a rainy day, curled up on the couch, watching my favorite movies.

Those are the best days ever.