“Mommy?” Amelia paused. “What’s your favorite movie?”
“Wizard of Oz,” I rattle off, preoccupied.
Our entire family (including the latest addition, Suzie Q, our new puppy) were cruising down Maple Valley Highway enroute to the Renton Senior Center for a Friday night “Moonlight Movie” at the Renton Senior Center.
My brown-eyed girl gazed at me with the look that only sweet 7-year-olds are capable of: equal parts sugar and spice and something else … something I recognized from my own childhood. Having given my mom the same adoring gaze at that age when I would watch her while she put on her makeup before an evening out.
Her expression of curiosity and love made me turn down the radio and give her my full attention, instead of my boiler-plate answer to what on the surface could be construed as merely a trivia question. Amelia wanted to know more about me.
“Amelia, when I was a kid there were only cartoons on Saturday mornings.” (pause) I hadn’t intended a pause, but her eyes widened with such incomprehension I feared her eyeballs would pop out.
And yet I can understand Amelia’s disbelief. Technology has changed so much in the last 30 years.
“Back then “The Wizard of Oz” was only played once a year on television, Thanksgiving Day. So it was special.”
A memory of my sister Cheryl and me snuggled up together on the couch wrapped in fluffy blankets sharing a bowl of popcorn. Mom in the kitchen cooking Thanksgiving dinner — the steam coming off the baking turkey wafted around the house.
I was still “in the moment” as the minivan doors began to slide open and the kids began dragging our blankets and low-backed chairs with Suzy Q in tow, tail wagging.
“Comme ci, comme ca—” I say to my husband as we follow the older kids.
“I understand,” he says, carrying Baby Ty. “‘Rockford Files’” is my ‘Wizard of Oz’.”
We smile at each other, basking in a brief moment of leisure as we walk holding hands from parking lot to the senior center. Just as we did in days of old, pre-en-masse-kids, when he and I would casually stroll hand-in-hand toward whatever moviehouse struck our fancy. Memorable films like “Amélie” at the Egyptian, or the time we spotted Bill Gates watching with us “The Claim” at the Harvard Exit. Those were good times.
With four kids and a new puppy the reverie was short but sweet.
The night air was humming with community spirit as we awaited dusk. As I watched my kids cruise around, I started to think about their favorite movies.
The voice of Alec Baldwin narrating “Thomas the Tank Engine” when Sophie was little, Amelia’s first love was Hayao Miyazaki’s other-worldly “Spirited Away.” Patrick is still smitten by “Iron Giant” and Baby Ty is mesmerized by “Ponyo.”
By proxy, these films have become like quilt pieces woven into the fabric of my fondest memories.
“What’s your favorite movie?” I ask a fellow moviegoer the same question I had been pondering all night.
Ernestina, the better half of a sweet-looking couple proclaims, “Sleepless in Seattle” as her favorite.
“I saw “Spartacus” in 1952 in the Philippines before I came to America.” Norberto explained.
I chased after Suzy Q as she made her way over to Cynthia Wilkins (whose favorite movie: “My Greek Wedding”) and her daughter Divinity.
“Caillou!” Divinity exclaimed her favorite proudly.
By then my kids had meandered over and pretty soon we were all singing the intro to Divinity’s favorite:
“I’m just a kid who’s four,”
“Each day I grow some more,”
“I like exploring I’m Caillou!”
We were ready for the next stanza when Paige, the self-proclaimed Pizza Girl, interrupted our medley with the delivery of more free slices of pizza, compliments of the Senior Advisory Board and City of Renton Employees’ Union Local 2170.
When dusk descended and the opening credits of “Grease” commenced, we returned to our nest of blankets.
Holding Baby Ty in my arms I could barely believe I was six when “Grease” first came out in June 1978.
A flood of memories ensued. I had forgotten how Cheryl and I had walked to the local theater seven times that summer. We loved watching “Grease” over and over, as well as perfecting our “hand jive” a skill that would come in mighty handy at Skate King.
Our family was cozied up together in a swath of blankets and a cache of Klondike Bars and Cokes. The only thing missing was the popcorn. But it didn’t matter. I was certain the kids would remember this night. I threaded my hand into Paul’s and lassoed him (along with Sandy and Danny) into an impromptu duet … Those Suuuummmerrrr Nigh—-ts!
I love suggestions! If you know of people or places in Renton that surprise, delight and inspire the community, drop me a line at carolyn@pippimamma.com. Also follow Carolyn on her blog, www.pippimamma.com.
