World Wide Sketch Crawl Tomorrow

Tomorrow is the big 23rd World Wide Sketch Crawl. Go to http://www.sketchcrawl.com/ for more information.

Locally, in Bryan, meet at the LaSalle Hotel in downtown Bryan at about 8:30 a.m. Saturday morning. From there, we can decided where to work. We will probably need to find a cool spot, near restrooms, as the day warms up.

After 10:00 a.m., you can register at the Frame Gallery, 216 N. Bryan Ave. That will give us some idea of how many people are participating. Contact Greta Watkins at the Frame Gallery for more information.

If we have a group, some may choose to work together. Or people may choose to work alone. Possibly, we could meet later to share experiences and work. At the end of the day, experiences and work can be posted on the Sketch Crawl website, on individual websites, or places like Flickr, Picassa, Facebook, etc.

Just bring yourself, your materials that you want to use, and any personal items you may need. You might want to include a folding chair or stool, depending on where you want to sit. So far, I have been able to find a bench or chair to use, but I have a lawn chair in the car, in case I need a place to sit.

This is a FREE event, open to all ages, all skill levels, all media, groups, families, or individuals. You can journal, draw, sketch, paint, or even doodle. You can work all day, or for a few minutes-at home, in a group, or solo. There are no rules.

In Calvert, meet beginning about 8:30 a.m. at Mud Creek Pottery, 407 Main St. Contact Sonny Moss for more information.

People in other communties can work there, perhaps forming their own groups, or they may join in another group such as in Calvert or Bryan.

Let's Draw The Brazos Valley!

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Speaking of art, Greta Watkins is having some classes at the Frame Gallery in downtown Bryan. Tomorrow, she is hosting a workshop on linocut printmaking.

On Wednesdays, there is a group that meets there focusing on painting portraits in oils.

See her website or contact her at the Frame Gallery in Bryan for more information.

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Remember sunbathing?

I've been avoiding the sun for a long time because I get sunburned and blistered, instead of getting a nice tan. The light bothers my eyes, too. But, now, my doctor told me to to go out and get at least 15 minutes of sun a day. So, I'm going out on the deck in the mornings, sitting in the sun with my hat and sunglasses, sketching and listening to the birdies sing.

Kind of a nice place to be.

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Painting The Eloia in Calvert

This was my view of Main Street during the architectural session of the Plein Aire Painting Workshop with V....Vaughan in February. This was a spot where I spent a lot of time during my life, watching the traffic on Highway 6, people on the sidewalk, and the picture show, the Eloia. If I was going to the show, I watched to see if it was time to go yet. If I was undecided about going, I might have watched for my friends. I could see who was going into the show, see what was playing, and when they rolled out the popcorn machine, ready for customers. I had a good view of a place that I loved to spend time, the Eloia.
The Eloia was named for Miss Eloise, Carl Allday's wife. Miss Eloise, with her red hair and pale skin, sat in the ticket booth selling tickets while Carl and their son ran the projector, sold popcorn, and made sure that everyone was behaving in the theatre.
During the workshop, I had a good view of the theatre, from a spot that had sentimental attachment for me, and it was warm and out of the wind!

This was my start during the workshop. I took a photograph so that I could finish my painting later. Also, on this small canvas, it was important to focus on one area and not the whole block. My thoughts were on the theatre and afternoon matinees on the weekend, and night time shows when the neon lights reflected on the building and the street.

At home, I added the clear blue sky that we experienced that afternoon and started cleaning up some areas. Darkening the north side wall of the theatre was something else that I decided to do. I thought a purple wash over the greenish wall might make it look more gray, like the concrete that it is made of.

Almost finished- I decided to keep this fairly Impressionistic and not add in all the little details of decorations, windows, and such. I like the way that the reflection and shadows in areas, like under the overhang of the old hardware store, give the impression of windows and woodwork. I just hinted at some of these things.

Finished- I think! I debated about adding in things like people, the Eloia sign that isnt' there anymore, and the popcorn machine. Probably that means another painting with the older features. I noticed that the current awning on the old hardware store on the left, doesn't let people see the windows that used to be above the overhang. Years ago, the hardware store had an overhang that was level with the one over the Eloia. It also had some pull down awnings, with green and white stripes.

This is an 8" x 10" oil painting on a canvas board. The finished painting is for sale.

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I thought you might like to see the different stages of this painting. Virginia has a link to my blog and the story of the workshop on her blog today. So, I wanted to show what my painting looks like, finished. It does look better than the scan, to me.

http://www.v-vaughan.com or http://www.vvaughan.blogspot.com

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Spring Break is winding up here. The last weekend for going to the beach, traveling, having fun somewhere, or just catching up on rest and sleep.

For me, I'm glad that the British comedies are going to be back on tv tonight after weeks of fundraising by Houston PBS. I'm looking forward to an evening of "Last of the Summer Wine", "Keeping Up Appearances", and Are You Being Served", along with a pan broiled chicken breat and a baked potato.

I spent a lot of this Saturday putting gesso on some canvases and cleaning my turpentine bottles. My gesso was almost dried, but I was able to add water and stir to make it spreadable again. That also meant clearing the island in the kitchen , spreading out newspapers, and carrying all my materials into the kitchen. I needed to prepare a couple of larger (16" x 20") canvases, and finish the package of 8" x 10" canvases that I bought for the workshop in February. I like a smoother canvas and don't care for the textured look of the rough canvas, when it is scanned. It's a little harder to work on, I think, as well. Those Dalhart Windberg canvases, that have layers of gesso and are sanded smooth, sound like they might be nice to work on.

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Thank you for signing my Guest Book and subscribing to my blog!

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Plan to join in the 22nd World Wide Sketch Crawl Saturday April 11, 2009!

http://www.sketchcrawl.com
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Robertson County Fair

Hearne, Texas
March 26-30

Walking Home From The Picture Show

My Calvert Photos

These were taken from where we set up to sketch and paint

For some reason, I couldn't get these vertical pictures to post on the slide show below. I turned the camera to take them, then rotated them after I saved them in My Pictures. However, each time I tried to add them on the slide show, they turned back sideways, and I couldn't find out how to straighten them out. So, I'm adding these separately.

We set up on the sidewalk beside the Masonic Lodge, out of the crisp wind that was whipping around that Saturday. The top photo shows across the side street, to the south. The bottom photo shows what was behind me.

I can remember a lot about what the street, curb, and even the railroad tracks looked like, as I walked from the school, to my house, and town, and back, it seemed like, almost every day while I was growing up. Every place the street dipped, every place there was gravel or where there was sand, where there were red ant beds to avoid, where you had to walk quickly to get out of the hot sun on a summer day and on to the next shady spot where oak trees hung over the street. I remember where puddles were made when it rained, where there were cracks in the curbing, and where there were sticker burrs to avoid. There were good spots for roller skating or bike riding, and other spots where the sand or gravel would throw you over. Where there might be wildflowers or where the lawns were neatly edged at the curb.

I remember which houses belonged to friendly folks and which ones were to be avoided. I remember houses that used to be, but are now gone, replaced with a modern house, or an empty lot.

As I looked across the street where we painted that Saturday, I thought of the way that it used to be. How some things have always been pretty much the same, like the streets, the railroad and its ditches, and some buildings. You can still see the old brick that is beneath the asphalt on Main Street, which is Highway 6. I remember when they put the asphalt over the brick, which was just heart breaking to many. I've felt sure that I can remember when the streets were still dirt, but that can't be. I wasn't born then!

The outcropping that holds the street light, where Uncle Tom always parked his car is still there, with the scrapes in the concrete where he always hit the base as he parked. But the lights are new. Uncle Tom bought the old one when the city replaced them, and put the light in his yard.

The steps that lead up to the sidewalks are still there, some with the "new" railings that were put up "for the older folks". Some of the original overhangs that covered the sidewalks are still there. Most buildings used to have them, with canvas curtains, that rolled down on the sides. That made like a tunnel to walk through along the sidewalks. Stores on the west side pulled them down when the sun was in the east, while stores on the east side pulled the curtains down when the sun was in the west. In hot weather, when the crowds were in town on Saturday, especially, it was like a steam bath along the sidewalks.

I guess I looked down, when I was walking more than looking down the street to where I was going. And I had plenty of scraped knees to make me remember certain spots in the street, after I fell down on my bike or roller skates and had to have Mama pick gravel out of the wounds with the tweezers. Hot pavement was a reminder about where not to linger in hot weather. And I walked with wet, muddy socks and shoes, after trying to get across a wide puddle in winter, enough to remember that soggy, cold feeling, and the squishing sound as I walked until I could get home and change clothes.

I remember when people could just pull their cars in and park along Main Street, and when they made people change to parallel parking. Uncle Tom had hit that concrete with his car even when he could just pull in. It was worse after parallel parking. No one wanted to have to go through that, but the Highway Department wanted to make the street wider with more lanes, so the rules were changed. I never did master parallel parking. Instead, I tried to park on the side street, if I could. Well, I could park, but I sweated bullets trying to do it!

In the top photo, with the white building on the corner, this building was not there when I was growing up. There was a vacant lot there, which we used to cut across if we were coming or going to the picture show down this street. This street ended at the park entrance, but I lived the next street over. The Methodist church was on this street, so, sometimes, while Mama practiced the organ or they had choir practice, I would walk to town or the store. It was also good to have the park as a stopping place to rest or get a drink of water from the fountain during our long journey.

My cousins, Diana and Joan, lived at the Calvert Hotel with their grandmother and their mother during WWII, while their father was in service. And they visited there often in other years. So, the hotel was another place that I grew up playing around, and was a place to stop by on my way to or from the picture show. Like other kids, my cousins were quite creative and were always doing something interesting. So that was one of my favorite places to go.

I think that there had been a building on the corner where the white building is now, but it burned before I can remember. When I was older, Mr. Allen built the building that is there now and had a nice Western Auto Store .

The building next to it, where the sign is hanging down over the sidewalk, was a different Allen's hardware store. And, the next white building is the Eloia, the picture show. There used to be a long, rounded neon sign outside that said Eloia. I don't see that in this photo.

Next door to the Eloia is a two story antique shop, the Boll Weevil, which I remember as a bank. I don't think you can see the rest of the buildings in the block from this picture.

In the picture below, you can see where the steps to the Masonic Lodge are, at the end of this building. The Masons made a really nice spot on a covered concrete slab where they have barbeque for special events, like the homes tour.

Just across the railroad tracks, you can see the Calvert Hotel. The street that goes on beyond that is the one that ends at Virginia Field Park entrance.

I was just thinking about the paths we took and wondered why we went some of those ways.

Across the empty space where the Western Auto store was built, was a path that was a bit of a shortcut to the railroad tracks. I seem to remember some twisted, rusty tin and old wood there, too. But, I wondered why we didn't walk on the sidewalk beside the Masonic Lodge, especially when our store was just across the highway. When we crossed Main Street, we always walked on the side of the street beside the empty lot. Maybe there was something mysterious about the Masonic Lodge, with its dark green shuttered windows. And how we always heard that what they did there was secret. It was kind of spooky, I guess. Grownups went there, and told us that things were secret. And while my family members were Masons and Eastern Star, I didn't question. I just knew that was someplace I wasn't supposed to go. But, since there was a well worn path on the empty lot, maybe others thought the same thing.

There were various stores below the Masonic Lodge, at different times, so that should have made it less scarey. Maybe they were not kid friendly places, or maybe it just seemed dark in the shadows.

At one time, there was a Delaware Punch bottling company in the building below, and we would go in there to see how they bottled the drink. The manager and his family went to our church and his daughter was my age. That was one time when the lower part of the building seemed open, light, and happy. I didn't have much experience in going into the building when they had a grocery store or furniture store there. The grownups bought the furniture, and had grocery stores, so there was no need for me, as a child to go there.

Now that Delaware Punch bottling company was a different story. They even brought some of the bottle drinks to church functions like family night suppers.

Wouldn't it be nice if memories remained clear. And if we had taken pictures, and labeled them, about all the little things that were a part of our lives.

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Thank you for your comments, and for reading and sharing.

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Let me know if you see something of interest. Most of the work on my blog is for sale.

Be sure to check out the links in my sidebar.

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I'm enjoying the blogs of Myrna Wacknov and Nancy Standlee. Nancy is attending Myrna's workshop this week in Cedar Hill. I know they are creating up a storm! I'm just about jealous and wish I was there with them.

Also, check out Virginia Vaughan's blog and website. Her "Last Year On The Farm" exhibit is opening in Rockport and she is doing some demonstrating and a mini workshop there Saturday. You can see more information on her blog.

Get Ready to have a great weekend!

Popcorn and a Movie

Popcorn

9" x 12"

pencil

What would Saturday be without a good, ole fashioned "shoot em up" movie, and, of course, popcorn has to go with that. Thank goodness for the old movie and western channels on tv, and things like tapes of those wonderful old shows.

Of course, Tim Holt was, and still is, my favorite. We had some pretty good arguments about who was best, Roy Rogers or Tim Holt, when we were growing up. Tim was right up there, in the movie magazines, with Roy, and sometimes, Gene Autrey was in the top, too.

This past week, I was looking at some things on You Tube and then tried doing a search. I was so thrilled to find some clips from some of the Tim Holt movies! I hope I can figure out how to use the things I saved and can go back and watch them again.

Also found old Gene Autrey and Roy Rogers music and parts of shows. And I went on to find things like clips from "The Pirates of Penzance".

Now if I could just watch the whole movies on my computer! (The sound isn't too good on my bedroom tv, so, if I can get things on the computer, that's a plus.) I could go in the den and watch on the big tv, but my computer is not there.

I'm not happy with what the Western channels are doing-putting old tv programs on instead of the movies. I never did like "Big Valley", "Bat Masterson", or "The Rifleman". And I got really sick of "Gunsmoke", back in those days. Didn't care for most of the tv westerns. Of course, we had to watch because we only got about 2 stations on tv! So people watched whatever was on in the evenings, especially.

Those old 1930s-1950s westerns were the best. They should put those old tv programs on the channels that have the old tv programs, and not the movie channels.

There are a few of the newer westerns that were pretty good, but they still can't beat those old cowboy shows we used to watch at the Eloia. I like the ones with James Garner and Peter Graves. Those have sort of grown on me. I didn't care for them when they first came out, but, now, after seeing them on tv several times, I kind of enjoy them.

I thought that one of those old tv shows stations was going to have the really old shows that I enjoy like "Our Miss Brooks", "Dobie Gillis", "My Little Margie", and those kind of programs. But, it wasn't long before we got the "new" shows, like "Leave It To Beaver", "The Brady Bunch", and "I Love Lucy". Now we get those and even newer shows like "Roseanne" and "George Lopez", and "All In The Family". I guess those are okay, but others just cause my poor thumb to get tired from changing channels with the remote.

I can't think of any particular movie of Tim's that was my favorite. I loved all of his westerns. And he was so cute, I could have just watched those shows, over and over. Still could!

I think that the only movie that I didn't like was "Treasure of the Sierra Madre". The story was good, and I do appreciate it more now than I did when it came out. But I hated that beard on Tim. Hid his pretty face! (Well, I just don't like beards and mustaches on anyone.)

I used to have photo albums full of pictures of movie stars and a special album just of Tim. Also had stacks of movie magazines and comic books that my mother threw out when I went off to college.

It was such a thrill to get those movie star pictures in the mail. We could just write a fan letter, addressed to the star in Hollywood, California, with a 2 cent stamp on it, and, soon, we would get a picture, often autographed, back in the mail. I sent off letters at least every week! Sometimes, stars would send us a picture that we didn't even write for. I remember that I had one of Vera Ellen, with a nice message on it. I had not written to her. And I was so excited to find that, when I jumped off a porch into some wet shrubs, with my photo in hand, that the ink actually smeared. That was "the test" to know if someone actually signed it or if it had just been stamped. I had a similar picture from Nina Fochs, with real ink on it. (I didn't even know who she was, so I knew that I had not written a fan letter to her.) Wish I still had those wonderful albums.

One of my treasures, now, is the biography of Tim Holt. Lots of pictures and stories. I sat down, when that book came, and read it straight through. (Unlike the biography of Robert E. Lee that I have been reading a little bit of at a time for at least 10 years, and I'm only about half way through! I am determined that I am going to finish it, one of these days.)

The Eloia was catty cornered from Grandpa's dry goods store, so I would watch through the big plate glass show windows for time to go across the street to the picture show on Saturday afternoons. I could see the colorful popcorn machine, with its colored lights, reflecting against the white building , rolled out from behind a blonde wooden door for each show. Carl Jr., when he was at home, would pop and sell the popcorn, while his mother, Eloise, took up tickets, and his father, Carl Sr., would sweep and take up tickets. Carl or Carl Jr. would run the projector upstairs. They all took turns walking up and down the aisles during the show to make sure that everyone behaved and didn't leave a mess. They only sold small sacks of popcorn for a nickle. For drinks, we had a chilled water fountain. If you wanted a Coke, you had to wait and go to the drugstore or to a grocery store after the show.

Sometimes, I had to help at the store and couldn't go to the show, and, believe me, I was wanting Grandpa to tell me, "Things are slow. Here's a quarter. Go on to the show."

But, even when things were slow, there were usually jobs to be done, like stringing handkerchiefs or putting pin tickets on merchandise, or just straightening things. Sometimes I would entertain myself by trying on the hats in the three way mirror, or sit by myself in the ladies changing room, dusting or sweeping, and just dream. Or I might sit on the floor at the edge of the show window and watch the people on the street, hoping to see a friend or a cute boy go by. That was the spot where Grandma and the other ladies who worked elected to sit while they strung handkerchiefs or put prices on merchandise. When Toot worked, she would sometimes sit there and write letters, when there were no customers or jobs to do.

The men tended to sit around the center of the store near the stove and the cash register. There were chairs and a bench there. A good place to gossip and swap stories.

If someone felt bad or just got extra sleepy, there were two shoe benches in the shoe department, where people sat to try on shoes.

When I could go to the show, sometimes I made the rounds at the grocery store in back ,and the dry goods store. A nickle from each person would get me into the show and buy me some popcorn, with a nickle left over to go to the drugstore afterward for a Coke or a scoop of ice cream. If I came up a nickle short, tears would usually bring me the extra money I needed.

After I started getting actually paid to work, my 50 cents a day, and later a dollar a day, would take care of my needs for a 12 cent tube of lipstick and picture shows and drugstore for the week.

We didn't always have cowboy shows on Saturday. Sometimes we had things like "The Three Stooges", or "Tarzan" movies. Usually all black and white movies during the week, with the technicolor movies saved for Sunday.

It still doesn't seem like Saturday without a good cowboy show, though.

And, now, I have to add that, Saturday night doesn't seem right without "Last of the Summer Wine" and other British comedies.

"Popcorn", the drawing above, was done with pencil on Canson acid free paper. This is a sketch made as a preliminary work for a challenge issued by Myrna Wacknov.

The challenge is to draw popcorn, then look at it to see what you can see in it. Something like looking at clouds to see what you can find there. The boys made popcorn while they watched a movie, so I borrowed a few kernels to use for my project. I haven't completed the finished work of what I see in the popcorn, however. But I do see lots of shapes and possiblities in what I have drawn.

And, like the homework story, somehow, the dog got my little ziplock bag of popcorn that I had drawn, and tore a big hole in it, leaving me with smashed kernels on the floor. (Good thing I was not using it as a still life!) And, fortunately, I can use my imagination to complete the picture/s.

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Stork Update

I've added another stork cam under Stork Sites. This one is in Hungary. Click on Hungarian Cam to watch.

The nest in Przygodzic now has 5 eggs in it! Now we must wait patiently for them to hatch. Meanwhile, we can watch Mama and Papa stork as they take turns tending to the eggs.

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Also sign my guest book, at the bottom of the page.

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Let me know if you see something of interest to you. Most of the work on my blog is for sale. Barbara says that her work is for sale, too!

Thank you for sharing and for your support.

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Rainy Sunday Afternoon

Rainy Sunday Afternoon 8.5" x 11" Pencil

Wouldn't you just know that it would rain.

After church one Sunday, we rode out across the Brazos River into Milam county, where Kathryn's family lived. I looked forward to playing and trying to forget about the dreaded homework that always seemed to remain undone until just before bedtime Sunday night. But, I spent the weekend worrying about it, and dreading having to do whatever the assignment might be. I tried to put it out of mind and have a pleasant time, with friends or alone.
Kathryn had chores on the farm, but she also had a lot of things to do-a horse to ride, animals to care for and watch, land to roam around on, and a big gully that ran to the Brazos River, that was like exploring the Grand Canyon, to little kids. Electricity out in the country was fairly new, and there was still an outhouse, until a new bathroom was added off the kitchen. They had radio, but there were few good programs on Sunday afternoon,at least, nothing that kids would enjoy. We didn't have tv in the area yet.
We looked forward to an afternoon of walking, climbing, exploring, discovering while Kathryn's dad read the paper and her mother finished up in the kitchen after Sunday dinner.
But, then, it poured. Rain slid down the kitchen windows as two little girls sighed and sulked, and felt there was nothing to do. Mud puddles formed in the yard. It was one of those old fashioned days of rain that I remember. No lightning, no thunder, no threatening storms. Just a nice, steady rain that lasted all afternoon. We would have gone out to play in the rain, except for the mud.
On one rainy day, we did go outside to feed chickens or some chore, probably had a trip to the outhouse, too. Of course, I came in all muddy after falling, and had to change clothes. Since I didn't have extra clothes, I had to wear some of Kathryn's, while mine went into a paper bag to go home to the wash.
But, now, we were a little older and splashing in the mud was not so attractive. So, we whined and fumed.
After the dishes were done, Kathryn's mother, Anna, just smiled and said she would make us a treat. We watched as she pulled out a bowl, pan, platter, butter, cocoa, sugar, vanilla extract, and all the makings for fudge. We anxiously watched as she stirred and added ingrediants. Kathryn buttered the platter while I stood beside the stove and watched Kathryn's mother, waiting for a sweet treat.
If I had been at home, our family would have finished up Sunday dinner, then my sister and I would read the funny papers and a catalogue. The kids might have gone to a Sunday afternoon movie at the Eloia, with a treat at Taliaferro's drugstore, or the whole family, sometimes in two or three cars, would have gone for a ride until supper time, and time for bed. (Somehow, that homework often did not get done until I got to school on Monday! Or not at all.)
But, today, we would get to munch on rich, sweet fudge, and I wondered if Kathryn's mother made fudge that tasted like my mother's fudge. I wasn't crazy about fudge. I would rather have a Hershey bar or chocolate ice cream. But, fudge would do. (You would never know that sugar was rationed! )
Finally, the mixture was ready to pour into the platter, and we got spoons to clean out what was left in the pan, as the fudge hardened. Well, we cleaned the pan, dishes were washed and put away, and the fudge was still runny in the platter. It was too far to drive into town and get more ingrediants, and the weather was too bad. We all kept testing the fudge and it seemed to get just a little soft, but still was very runny.
Kathryn's mother talked to us about what might be wrong that the fudge just wouldn't get ready, and our mouths were almost watering, waiting for the treat. She told us that you shouldn't make divinity in certain kinds of weather due to the problem of it never getting hard if the weather was too damp. But she had never had that problem with fudge.
We were beginning to feel like having a snack was a lost cause.
Kathryn's mother laughed with her rich, wonderful laugh, and reached into the cabinet, pulled out a box of crackers, and told Kathryn to get a couple of knives from the silver drawer. We stood at the counter, watching the rain through the window over the sink, spreading fudge on crackers, and munching away. I was not so sure that would work, but found it to be really delicious! We ate until the platter was clean, the rain stopped, and it was time to take me home.
I don't think that my mother was very happy when I told her that I wanted her to make fudge like Kathryn's mother, to be eaten with a spoon and crackers!
Later, in college, my friends and I would go to the movies and get popcorn and a chocolate candy bar to eat during the movie. That reminded me of rainy day fudge!
In my drawing, Kathryn is by the table with her blonde hair in braids that she wore coiled over her ears. Blue jeans, with rolled up cuffs were the style. Girls wore jeans for girls with zippers on the side. While I started with pigtails, and ribbons, my hair had a mind of its own. The ribbons were soon hanging and the braids were loose. We tried to dress alike and would call each other on the phone to see what each one in the class or group was wearing the next day. We weren't allowed to wear pants to school, other than our band uniforms or shorts for P.E. and sports.
My drawings seem to take on a life of their own as I work, with parts just seeming to appear-sometimes things I thought I didn't remember at all show up in my picture.
There is a technique called "mapping", in which you can start with a large piece of paper and a marker, pencil, pen, or whatever is comfortable, but fairly large. Start by thinking of a place, such as a house, then try to draw a floorplan of the house, or focus on a room. As you work, you will start to remember all kinds of details and stories that are hidden deep in your memory. It's amazing how things like vases, doorways, knick knacks, people, and stories will start to come out as you draw. You can go on to map out the whole house, grounds, etc, or stop and write or draw about the one thing that you want to focus on.

Saturday Afternoon

Tickets Please 8.5" x 11" pencil

Saturday just doesn't feel like Saturday without a good, old cowboy movie to watch. It has to be one of those black and white "shoot 'em ups", where the hero is always the good guy. He has to have a wonderful, loyal horse and a sidekick, or even a small gang of good guys of his own (preferably a group that sings as they ride or sit around the campfire). They fight for right and freedom, but never just to be mean. And the heroine usually gets left behind with not so much as a kiss.

Growing up in Calvert, Texas, we had the Eloia Theatre on Main Street. It's still there, but is not used as a theatre anymore. Wide screens and tv ended their years of providing entertainment. After a fire, it was rebuilt with all the latest features including double wide seats at the end of every other row, and a cry room. You can't miss this theatre with its maroon tile with white paint .

This was a family operation with Miss Eloise (all women were called "Miss") working in the ticket booth . Her husband, Carl, sold popcorn, took tickets, as he is in my drawing, cleaned up, ran the projector, and still looked like he was very casual and not doing much of anything. Their son, Carl Jr., ran the projector and also sold popcorn. We thought he was so cute in his Aggie uniform selling popcorn, although we were much youger. He probably considered us pesky little kids!

The Eloia was named for Miss Eloise. I have shown her here in the ticket booth. She was so pale with a lot of powder, red lipstick, light blue eyes, and red hair softly curled. She always wore soft dresses or suits in pinks, lavenders, light green, colors that complimented her fair skin. I wondered if she might have once been an actress and had fallen in love with Carl, then settled in our small town. I don't really know their story.

As a child, I know that I probably looked at her with my mouth hanging open. I wondered if she were real. Her little booth reminded me of one of those gypsy fortune tellers that we saw in a little booth at the State Fair of Texas and Houston Fat Stock Show. Those gypsy ladies were not real, of course, but we wondered, as they moved their hand across cards, and seemed to look right at us. I was surprised when Miss Eloise would leave her booth and walk into the audience to watch for misbehaving children, budding romances, or people who were sitting through more than one show without paying .

Tim Holt was my hero and I would try to sit through every show when one of his movies was playing on a weekend, then pay to go back the next day. But, usually, Miss Eloise would let me sit through the second movie, if there weren't many people there. That 25 cents was hard to come by and I usually had to go from relative to relative, asking for a nickel until I had enough money. Sometimes I didn't get enough so I had to sadly watch people go into the show from the plate glass windows in my grandfather's dry goods store across the street. I didn't get an allowance, and, occasionally, they would let me work at the dry goods store. But, if I worked, I couldn't go to the show because I would be working on Saturday.

Everyone in town went to the Eloia. It was like a socail thing, and the town was like a big family. Today, family members might have their certain places to sit as they watch tv. Back then, it was like that as they sat in the everyday living room, to listen to the radio. And, the same applied when people went to the picture show, to church, or certain events. Everyone had their own place to sit. At the Eloia, little kids sat on the first couple of rows, and, as they grew older, they moved back. There was a rotund farmer, with great red cheeks, and a hearty laugh, who rode to town on his tractor. He would go to Miss Molly's hamburger place next door to my grandfather's dry goods store, and buy a small sack of hamburgers, which he would take to the show. He would sit on the double seat, on the first row, with all the little kids, eat his hamburgers, and have a great time at the show. They didn't sell drinks or snacks at the Eloia, just popcorn, and had a drinking fountain with cold water in the lobby. I think they said they put those double seats in just for Henry, the farmer, and thought he might choose other places to sit. But he stayed right up front with the kids.

I thought that, when I grew up and had lots of money, I would be sure to go to Miss Molly's, get a sack with maybe two dozen sissyburgers, and spend Saturday afternoon watching Tim Holt shows at the Eloia. But in the back row, not the front.

My parents always chose the back row, where Daddy would sit with his arm around Mama's shoulder. I usually sat in the middle rows, or where the kids my age were sitting. But, if I had a date, and after I married, we would sit in the back, on a side row-not in the center where my parents sat. My parents didn't go to the show so much after I grew up. Like everyone else, they were happy to stay at home, with tv dinners on a tv tray, and watch the shows there.

The picture show family had a beautiful home near Main Street. I was so surprised that they had a home! I, like a lot of kids, thought that people who we always saw at businesses, were always there. Just like teachers. We didn't realize that they were human beings, until we were older. We thought they lived at school, or their business, never ate or slept, drank or went to the bathroom, didn't have families, or a home.

In the front yard, just off the sidewalk, there was a fish pond with gold fish swimming around. For kids walking to town from school or home, stopping by the fish pond was about as good as a trip to the zoo. I think some kids dropped gum wrappers in the pond, so, if we were seen, one of the family would shoo us away. There was another fish pond in town, just like that one, so we had two places to watch the fish swim.

I went to the house at least one time, to see Miss Eloise. I was scared silly and hoped she wouldn't come to the door. I may have gone by to sell magazines or candy, but, I know this one time, I was intent on asking for one of the posters advertising a Tim Holt movie. I got to peek inside the leaded glass door, and I remember beautiful woodwork and hardwood floors in a wide room with gingerbread across an arch, and little wooden beads worked into the design. Miss Eloise told me that if she ever had an extra one that she didn't have to send back, she would save it for me.

I didn't get a poster, but I did have photo albums full of movie star pictures. All we had to do in those times was to write a fan letter to a star, and address it to Hollywood, California. Soon, we would have wonderful photos back, sometimes with a signature. Some started charging 25 cents as postage went up from 2 cents to mail an out of town letter.

The Chatmas Theatre in nearby Hearne got a widescreen when those became popular. Since the Eloia was new, they didn't want to have to make that investment, so they closed after a while. I still think that was one of the best theatres. I'm still not that wild about wide screens.

When I watch an old movie on tv, with the lights out, I can just go back to the Eloia. I can see my friends giggling and whispering secrets, Henry laughing, some kids helping the good guys with "gun noises", older couples holding hands, and the boys in our class making silly noises, like the Three Stooges. I can feel the cool we sought on a hot day in the dark theatre, the warmth in winter. Smell the popcorn from the colorful machine out in front. And wait for Miss Eloise or Carl, to walk the aisles. Maybe they are doing that still.

Cowboy shows, Tarzan, The Three Stooges, those type of movies are Saturday shows. Technicolor was for Sunday movies, and dramas, mysteries, the latest blockbusters or classics are weekday shows. That was the schedule, and I guess it was as ingrained in us as church on Sunday, washday on Monday, ironing on Tuesday, cleaning house on Wednesday, parties on Thursday, shopping or yardwork on Friday.