An ode to the Saturday matinees of the 1950s
Stephen Wade recalls growing up in the matinee days of the 1950s, when a trip to the cinema brought big-screen thrills and the occasional spot of real-life danger. My grandma tried to snuff me out twice. I have read about the large families of Edwardian days, and of infant mortality rates being frighteningly high, but looking back, I see that my relatives tried to make us kids yet more statistics – but they did it with love. The second attempt on my life took place in the Shaftesbury Cinema in Leeds, and the weapon of choice was the boiled sweet. I recall lying on the marbled floor of the vestibule, staring up at half-a-dozen adult faces, all concerned about me as I fought for breath. In the excitement of watching Don Winslow of the Navy take on a few dozen sword-wielding tribesmen on the big screen, the great sugary ball had slipped down my throat and stuck. What was to be done? There were appeals for medical people but none came. I was maybe turning blue. But then the manager arrived, dragged me to my feet, hit me on the back with the force of a crossbow bolt, and the… CONTINUE READING…
