Ah, memories good and bad. I traveled from Glendale, sometimes on the B53 bus, to see movies at the Valencia. My graduation from Richmond Hill High School occurred there in 1966, and I recall whispering to my Dad as I marched down the aisle that he had to run over to the Gertz parking lot to drop some money in their meters because I was sure I was running low.
Later, waiting for the B53, years later, just a few years before it closed for good as a movie, I was surrounded, a la Bernhard Goetz, but several youth with sharpened screwdrivers. But I was lucky. I kept jiving with the youth until a police car passed. I sidestepped, ran into the street, got their attention, the dear old B53 came and while the cops pinned “da youts” to the wall of the Valencia, I rode off. One “yout” got free and gave chase for a bit but gave up.
And so I lived and remember the lovely gold fish and darkened outline of buildings and stars with a big screen in the middle!
Ah, memories good and bad. I traveled from Glendale, sometimes on the B53 bus, to see movies at the Valencia. My graduation from Richmond Hill High School occurred there in 1966, and I recall whispering to my Dad as I marched down the aisle that he had to run over to the Gertz parking lot to drop some money in their meters because I was sure I was running low.
Later, waiting for the B53, years later, just a few years before it closed for good as a movie, I was surrounded, a la Bernhard Goetz, but several youth with sharpened screwdrivers. But I was lucky. I kept jiving with the youth until a police car passed. I sidestepped, ran into the street, got their attention, the dear old B53 came and while the cops pinned “da youts” to the wall of the Valencia, I rode off. One “yout” got free and gave chase for a bit but gave up.
And so I lived and remember the lovely gold fish and darkened outline of buildings and stars with a big screen in the middle!