PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In October, 1974, f0rty-nine years ago as of this month, the film, It's Alive was released in theaters.  I am watching it now om my DVR, and I have some very fond memories of it.

Not quite two years later, J-Wave and I saw the film in a drive-in theater, on one of the Friday or Saturday nights between July 23rd, 1976 and August 28th, 1976.  Our tastes ran to horror movies like that, and the theater we patronized primarily seem to run many similar films during that summer.  Our Friday night routine, which had been established on July 10th, 1976, was to attend a film, sometimes even a double feature; then visit our vicinity's premiere Italian restaurant for a large, flatcrust pizza (pepperoni and onions or mushrooms), and then several hours driving on the backroads of our rural township so we could talk on our c.b.

One of J-Wave's habits during these evenings was to remove his shoes (in the style we then called "disco shoes," which featured a chunky heel).  He always wore mdinight blue socks, which were often partly concealed beneath the tattered cuffs of his bell-bottom jeans.  He also unbuttoned his shirt and untucked it from his jeans' waistband, so that it hung open.  (At the restaurant, of course, he was more properly dressed---shoes on, shirt buttoned; but for the other two parts of the evening, he preferred the more casual condition.)  I admit that during the films, I did not always pay careful attention to the film, being otherwise distracted by J-Wave.  The only light in the compartment of our sub-compact vehicle came from the massive screen in front of us, and from the much weaker glow of the dial on our c.b., by which signal strengths (both for reception and transmission) were measured.  Although little detail could be noticed, I knew those shoes were on the back floorboard, the socks were on the front floorboard (however concealed by his jeans' cuffs), and his bronze torso (one of his grandmothers had been Native American; and he favored that aspect of his ethnic and genetic heritage).  Therefore, in the presence of all that, I missed details important to each movie.  I did not care that I missed them.

But tonight, watching the film without J-Wave's provided distractions, I heard in its dialogue an allusion to Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein and the films that came out of it.  So here was my girl, Mary Shelley, again---mentioned in yet another film.  I knew I must have heard that in 1976, but my attention was more focused elsewhere in our car, rather than on the screen or the window speaker that conveyed the sound.

Starward