The year was 1965. Our family had just moved to Syracuse, Utah from Farmington, New Mexico. One state away and what a difference a state line can make! For one, who ever heard of putting ketchup on hamburgers!? To the five of us kids, (elder brother already moved out, younger brother not yet born) having to make adjustments to a new place should have been, by now, old hat, having experienced a rather itinerant, literal sojourn on earth. But we were kids and uprooting was hard. Every time. No matter how many times we had done it before.
Something that was always a comfort, for me especially, was "going to the show." And go to the show, we did.
Peery's Egyptian Theater where I first saw this rollicking romp, which I must have seen at least seven times in as many days, (remember when you could stay and watch a movie over again without having to leave the theater?) is screening it again this week! It's part of the
Pharoah's Phamily Phun Philm Phestival. They're showing other movies, too, like
"High Noon" and
"Shane," and
"Gigi" which I think is a really ugly movie. But, that's beside the point. What is right ON the point is that I get to go see Cat Ballou with my sister and my daughter, at the historic Egyptian in Ogden, Utah. What would you call that circuitous kind of serendipity?
I will be this happy:
