THE TIMES ARE A-CHAGIN' OR ARE THEY?

It cost 15¢ to get into the Saturday afternoon matinee at the Medford movies. But, then, there came a time when they raised it to 20¢, and my friends and I were pretty upset about that. It’s not like we couldn’t afford it. It was the principle of the thing. Of course, we paid for it from our allowances, or at least, I did. Five more cents meant that much less candy, I suppose, might have been a factor. It’s hard to say now—especially with today’s prices for seeing a single feature versus a multitude of cartoons, three or four short subjects, the Three Stooges, and a double feature. i.e.-a whole afternoon of kid entertainment.

When I think about that, I can’t help but wish that something like that were available today (and at the same price—that would be good). They could do it as a kind and thoughtful gesture for old people like me to relive a part of our lives and reminisce for just an afternoon. They could call it “Saturday Matinees Remembered,” or something along those lines. I know that I would go to it. It should be in an old theater, though—not in one of those huge movie complexes. Atmosphere would be important.

In her book, Mindfulness, Ellen Langer talks about a study that was done to see how environment effects our state of mind.  It consisted of changing the décor of a nursing home and filling it with everything that was reminiscent of the residents’ days of youth—music, styles of furniture, miscellaneous household items that were of that era, etc. The effect was that the residents began to be livelier and happier and even more youthful in their state of mind than they had previously been in the old environment of the home.

There is a school of thought in theoretical physics that says that the past, present, and future are all happening at the same time. Mindboggling, to say the least, and further, what does that imply?

Maybe it means that our lives are already a complete story, the ending of which has already happened, but the information to which we are not privy. Weird concept, I know. Or, maybe it means that we are as close to yesterday and tomorrow as we are to the present moment. And what does that mean? Maybe it means that we have some kind of very real access mentally, emotionally, and spiritually to all the chapters of our lives almost like in time travel. Maybe they are available for healing in the past, present and future, or a source of joy to be found in the fond remembrances of what has been, and what is now and what shall be.

Just a thought.