My mother who was barely 17 at the time I was born, was still quite young herself when she started taking me with her to see movies. She was in her early 20s when we saw such black and white “epics” such as “The Beginning of the End”, “The Colossal Beast”, and “Attack of the Giant Leeches”. Though these films were made on incredibly low budgets, and consisted of equally low special effects, as a child I found these movies terribly frightening. I actually recall abandoning my mother during a particularly scary part of the giant grasshopper movie, “Beginning of the End”, and taking refuge in the lobby. Of course when viewing these movies many years later on DVD, I could not believe how fake and cheesy these looked. On the other hand, they did and do still have a type of charm. Once my mother began to move pass her interest in “scary movies”, she would occasionally venture out and would take me to see some of the bigger, more adult movies.

It was around this time my mother began to trust my going to the movies on my own. My first experience seeing my first truly big, epic movie proved to be both confusing and amusing. While I can’t recall for sure which movie it was, I do have vivid memories of the experience.

  I recall coming home and letting my mother know that while I essentially liked the movie, I thought the movie ended somewhat abruptly, and making no sense due to leaving so many parts of the story unanswered. It didn’t take long before she was able to determine that I left the theater during something I had never heard of or experienced before… an “intermission”. Needless to say, I made sure that never happened to me again.