12/14/22
Newsletter #188
The Crack of Dawn
I grew up two miles from the fancy, expensive restaurant, Machus Red Fox, a facsimile of which can be seen in Martin Scorsese’s The Irishman. My good buddy Steve was the floor manager. He wore a tuxedo and his job was to serve wine and baked potatoes. He would say over and over every night, “Would you like your potato with sour cream, chives, or bacon bits. I recommend the combination of all three.” Well, Machus Red Fox was where UAW leader, Jimmy Hoffa, was kidnapped. When Steve came into work the next day he found the place filled with FBI agents, two of whom were down on their knees working with socket wrenches. They completely removed the booth where Jimmy Hoffa was seated and took it away. As a note, they never returned or replaced it.
In 1969 my family, sans my father, took a family vacation to California. I’ve previously mentioned that that was the summer of Woodstock, the Manson Murders, and landing on the moon. We checked in at the Disneyland Hotel. The next day we did Disneyland. The first thing you get to is Main Street, which is (or was) meant to look like a small town in America, circa 1910. Included on Main Street was a fully-functioning nickelodeon. The place was full of Edison Kinetoscopes. You put in a nickel, peer into the viewer, and see a one-minute movie. Each Kinetoscope contained a different movie, like a muscle man lifting a barbell, a woman doing a fan dance, or cats boxing. There were also examples of viewing machines made by Edison’s competitors, like the Mutoscope that worked like a flip-book, and several others. Before I had a decent chance to really check out this wonderful place, everybody wanted to leave. I was aghast. I told them to just go ahead and leave me there, but no, being 11 years old, I had to accompany them for the full tour. So, we did all the knuckleheaded things we were supposed to do: It’s a Small, Small World, Pirates of the Caribbean, the haunted house, some asinine ride where you were in what looked like a hollowed-out log. All the while I kept thinking about the nickelodeon.
We finally went back to the hotel, which was just across the parking lot. It was about 4:00 PM and my mother was beat. She took a nap and banished us from the room, assuming we’d go swimming, and told us to be back at 6:00. My sisters went swimming; I went back to Disneyland. I stood there watching the lines of folks entering the place. After just a few minutes I spotted a hole in their system. As two big families presented their tickets and filed in, I slipped in between them, ducked under the turnstile, and bingo, I was back in Disneyland. I went straight to the nickelodeon and watched every single movie on the twenty Kinetoscopes, then all the other films on the Mutoscopes and Praxinoscopes.
When I finally had my fill and left to go back to the hotel it was about 7:00. In the intervening hour between 6:00, when I was supposed to be back, and 7:00 when I came strolling in, my mother had completely freaked out and called the ersatz Disneyland cops. They questioned me seriously, asking, “Where were you?” I said, “Disneyland.” They said, “How did you get in?” I said, “I walked right in.” They said, “You can’t do that.” I said, “But I did.” They said, “You can’t get in without a ticket.” I said, “Yes, you can. It’s easy.” These silly cops looked horrified – this intruder had breached their airtight security. They kept repeating, “You can’t just walk in,” and I kept replying, “Sure you can.” Appearing highly skeptical, they then asked, “And where did you get the money to go on the rides?” insinuating I stole it, or sold drugs to get it. I said, “I didn’t go on any rides. I spent the whole time in the nickelodeon.” Now they had me. “And where did you get the money for the nickelodeon?” I said, “I had two dollars changed into nickels.” I reached into my pocket, removed four or five nickels and showed them to them. “I didn’t use them all.” The Disney cops reticently accepted my farfetched story and left. My mother, bless her soul, was pissed at me, but also amused and impressed that I had so easily figured out how to get back in.
Aye, and a lovely day to ya.