Movies versus Memories

There was a day when movies were actually on film.  We’d go to the theater and when we saw the suitcase like boxes in the lobby we knew that there was either a new movie arriving, or there would be soon to replace that one that was leaving.  Now they are all on CDs I guess.   Or in some other new fangled format.

In any format, I love movies.  So much so that when I was a youngster I would tell my mother that I was sick so I could stay home form school to watch some movie I knew was going to be on TV.  Usually an old one.  Gangsters.  Westerns.  Comedies.  Army movies.  And yes, musicals.  I know a lot about old movies.  Not so much about contemporary ones.  Can’t stay home from work to go to the movies.

Lately we’ve been watching a lot of home movies when we go to the lake.  All the old 8 mm films converted to VHS, and then to DVD.  It’s fun to watch all of those old films.  Our family history captured in time.  And history.  But I can only take so much.  I usually get sad because I miss those days.

There are movies that only exist in my head.  These are memories of the past.  Sometimes these are as crystal clear as the images on a brand new CD.  I see my younger brother now.  He went though a cowboy phase as a little kid.  Every day he’d wear a straw cowboy hat.  Black.  And matching black leather cowboy boots.  He had jeans and a neckerchief and gloves with a leather fringe on the cuff.  The best part was the shirt though. He had a blue ne and a red one.  Both with a small checked pattern and white piping across the chest.  Long sleeved.  All the buttons were pearl.

Indoors he rode an appaloosa rocking horse.  Outdoors it was the swing set.  Back and forth.  For hours on end.  He was a cowboy ridin’ the range.  A man and his horse.  I can relate.

There are no movies of this.  Just the one in my head.  It’s probably a compilation of a number of scenes.  But it’s crystal clear and it reminds me of my brother.  With time the movies and the memories will fade.  Until then, the memory I can call up any time.  The movie requires technology.  The memory makes me smile.

That’s part of my story.  What’s yours?  www.personalhistorywriter.com

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