Well, maybe its been too long, since I let my imagination go, and wrote a poem. So this is what ya gets by the desert moon light. Yeah, I've been looking at Drive-In Movie nostalgia pages galore. I find the ones at Roadside Peek Drive-In Theatre's page to be the best.Too bad they don't have photos of the interiors of some of the old movie houses they have exterior photos of.
One night,
in the long ago,
or the distant pluperfect future past,
oh, you now how it is,
time travel just don't have words,
if this be time travel,
maybe its tha future,
anyway,
I got in my pickup,
and stopped off at the candy store,
bought me some Drive-In Movie Candy !
Them nonpareils, and jujubees,
a swarming in them boxes,
and them redhot hearts and dots,
make ya teeth enamel curl.
Lets not get any of that grease,
whatever it may be,
and not put it on the popcorn !
And that sody pop,
lets buy a gallon or three,
and maybe some ice,
to go with it,
large ice floes need not apply !
Ya might take a flashlight,
or two,
with spare bulbs and batteries,
ya never can tell,
what might want to borrow one,
at the Drive-In Movie Theater,
waaay out yonder,
in the Lonesome Desert Night,
if their mode of transport,
goes on the blink.
But leave the flares at home,
and the flash cameras to,
last time I brung them,
some thing thought they,
were cheesy comestibles,
and ate them each one and all.
And made sure I had a fill-up,
of my truck's gas tank,
that Lonesome Drive-In Movie Theatre,
is a long waaaaay out,
in the middle of No-wheres-ville.
Packed a few blankets as well,
the desert nights,
get cold,
and my heater doesn't seem to do much,
when the stars and galaxies,
look over my shoulder,
at the movie playing,
up there on the Big Screen !
Now, you may never have heard of it,
and, before I dreamed it up,
neither had I,
but its out there,
somewhere,
on the way,
to where old drive-in movie theatres go,
after they die.
Long after the speakers on the
multi-colored poles,
have all been stolen,
and the closed concession stand,
has been reduced thru fire or storm,
and the projection booth is no more,
for the 45 rpm record player,
they regaled us with music,
on them small vinyl records of yore,
gone on, to the Nothingness,
with which some things get disgarded,
when they are broke,
and gone,
forever more.
But lets not dwell on them being gone,
because there it is,
up yonder,
you can see the marquee,
winking and blinking its neon,
in the night,
beckoning to us all,
to see the movies,
at the Lonesome Desert Drive-in Movie Theatre.
Old George runs it,
he doesn't charge money anymore,
he kept getting funny looks,
when he tried to cash in Jovian,
and Martian money,
at the local bank.
We all try to forget,
what happened,
when he tried to deposit,
that talking coinage,
from out Andromeda Galaxy Way.
So, he just says, 'Come on In !'
and we do, and watch some movies,
and discuss,
until just an hour before dawn,
when the various and sundry,
spaceships, starships, wheeled-conveyances,
oddly-propelled thingamabobs,
and Old Hector Bill, the Martian,
on his unicycle, goes home,
before folks who live in the daytime,
come nosing about.
I asked him about it,
"Why a unicycle ?"
He winked one of his many eyes,
the thirty-third one,
I do believe,
and replied, "You figure a pilot,
or anyone else for that matter,
gonna report a flying unicycle ?!"
I agreed,
but man, the first time,
I saw Old Hector Bill,
trying to ride that unicycle,
and his eighth foot kept
getting wrapped around the left hand
foot pedal,
well, I laughed so hard,
he wouldn't talk to me,
until I apologized.
'Course, Rex the Wonder Pilot,
he's from Jupiter,
thought it was kinda funny as well.
So the three of us used to trade stories,
during intermissions,
to the amusement of the rest of the folks,
particularly the ones which fly
around, in the tea cup and saucer,
reading works from an English Author,
name of Chaucer !
Sometimes our talk,
according to some,
is more interesting than the movie,
so Old George,
he shuts down the projector,
and we swap yarns and tall tales,
until just before,
an hour of dawn.
Lets not talk,
of what almost happened,
an interstellar war,
when some being,
saw me eating popcorn,
it cried out,
'cause it was reminded,
it of a childhood friend,
of the long ago.
But Rex and Old Hector Bill,
did explain what popcorn was,
sitting out there,
in the Drive-In movie theatre,
an hour before dawn.
So it decided,
it could leave such thoughts alone,
and we enjoyed several nights,
a swaping tall tales,
out there,
in no-wheres-ville,
at the Lonesome Drive-In Movie Theatre,
a few hours,
before dawn.
Note: I don't believe in ufos.
