Where Have All The Children Gone?

Today I entered the movie theatre of my youth, the one we cajoled our father into taking us most every Satuday. It was a grumpy ride down State Street but worth it. He got a few hours free from our bickering and fighting, we got entrance to a magic place: The Fox Arlington of Santa Barbara, California.

It was mostly the same. I walked past the old ticket booth, down thr 100 yard academy award-like foyer to the new high tech ticket office.

Beyond the usual snack bar, I passed into the courtyard of a staged spanish presidio, complete with astronomically correct constellations above. I tried taking a photo of the big dipper but it didn’t turn out.

Before long I was into The Lion King, beautifully put together, just enough Shakespearian evil and drama to engage all generations and a strident but not too obtrusive soundtrack.

But looking around in the semi-darkness, something was off.
I had deliberately come on a Saturday to enjoy this movie with hordes of sticky face preadolescents. Instead I counted twelve others in attendance, all deep in the throws of geezerdom.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, no sunami warnings. Granted it now costs $8 to use the back parking lot, and granted Santa Barabara is over built, overly marketed and these days over crowded.

But still, it was a great movie.
Where were the kids?