By Harold Brummett

Star Denmark Route

 

My wife (Angie) and I went to the movies the other night. It was, in my opinion, a generally unpleasant experience. The movie was all right but getting used to the expense as well as the awkwardness of having to select your seat beforehand for a movie just didn’t seem right.  

I like popcorn and a drink with my movie and was disheartened at the price. I asked for a medium drink and medium popcorn. The young lady who was serving pointed out the economic advantages of buying large everything. I appreciated her concern but just wanted a medium drink and medium popcorn and said that was all my banker would loan me for this night at the theatre. No humor. I was told that they do not sell a medium drink.

I pointed out that on the electronic signs above their heads it advertised a medium drink. The young lady pointed out that they had no medium cups. I countered with use a large cup and fill it three-quarters full. The young lady then said that the display on their register did not have a button for a medium drink.

Checkmate. Medium popcorn and small drink to share with Angie. 

Back in the 1970’s I became friends with Ron Shapiro. We worked together at the University Medicinal Plant garden. Our job, along with a whole crew of others and the Boss Jim Urbanek was to grow marijuana for research purposes. 

Later, Ron started the Hoka theatre and I was there as the old cotton warehouse was turned (somewhat) into a theatre. Everything was on a shoestring in the beginning and I became one of several projectionists who learned the intricacies and temperament of a pair of 1936 Simplex projectors. These beasts used welding rods to produce the light to push the images onto the screen. Any stoppages without shutting down the arc would melt the film.  

Even today, I look for the marks in the upper right hand of a picture that indicated there was five seconds to start the other projector and switch over sound and image. The film then had to be hand-rewound and put back in the canister to be ready for the next showing. 

In the beginning, there was very little by way of refreshments. At first, there was just fresh popped popcorn (not popped off-site then shipped in and put under warmers as is done today) and fountain drinks. As the enterprise got underway, more and more variety was added. 

I was not there for the heyday of the Hoka in the 1980’s as I had gone into the Army by then. Ron was a veteran and served his time in Korea during the Vietnam War. I remember Ron saying he was drafted and wanted to do his part. I could only imagine Ron as a soldier, then the film Stripes with Bill Murray comes to mind. I can only smile thinking about Ron and the possibilities. Jim Dees was there at the beginning (and the end I suppose) and think of him as a friend. I haven’t seen Barton in a very long time. 

I remember that working at the Hoka was fun. The Rocky Horror Picture Show and other offbeat as well as classic films were the staple of Ron’s movie business. Films were constantly breaking and being chewed up by the old projectors. Every now and again, several of the audience would come up into the booth to see if they could help, other times just to cuss depending on their level of intoxication. 

After I was gone more modern equipment was secured.  I remember Ron’s dog Delta, a black lab who would wander down the aisle during the film drinking out of customer’s cups they had set on the floor. Her coal black fur is the perfect camouflage. The Hoka wasn’t just laid back, it was laid all the way back. As the sign said, No Shirt, No Shoes, Who Cares?

I’ll save my money and go to the theatre again sometime, eat the stale popcorn and have a small drink. The electronic images made from AI imagination for me just can’t compare to the crackling sound of an electric arc and the grinding of 75-year-old gears throwing an image of Ingrid Bergman on screen saying, “Play it once Sam, for old time’s sake.”