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The Place That Time, Thankfully, Forgot.

April 20, 2008

N and I have been tooling around the island discovering its many faces: its inlets and bays, acres of parks for hiking, horseback riding, even a stroll with one’s dog; a half dozen or so good restaurants; the mini multi-plex movie house, the farmer’s market; a few art galleries and finally the “arty” cinema that we’d been deprived of, back in our Midwestern town, for so long.

At the farmer’s market.

Imagine going to the movies where one buys one’s ticket and popcorn from the same person, who is not an acne plagued, minimum waged youth (not that I have anything against them), but a genial gentleman (who might even be the owner) who smiles at the regulars and who later enters the auditorium to give a brief, interesting intro to the movie. Where the theater itself is not composed of stadium seating, but the old fashioned kind where one hopes a six foot something giant with a large head or hat doesn’t plonk him/herself in front of you as the seats are on an almost level surface. Those seats have been “updated” to the kind that minimally recline, but the rest of the plain space, including the curtain that’s raised when the program begins, I have a sneaking suspicion might date back to the theater’s beginning. But all of it adds to the wonderful quirky ambiance, which if the film is good too – and it was – makes for a terrific evening.

Copyright © 2008

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