On noticing the details: The monkey in the theater

I was sitting in the doctor’s office the other day and there was a picture of a local historic theater on the examination room wall. It was a highly detailed ink drawing that, at a distance, looked like a black and white photograph. To the right of the picture was block of text almost the same size as the picture. The text summarized the history of the building, noted the specific make, models, and years of the cars in the foreground, and recounted the story of the opening night of the theater; which apparently involved dancing girls and a loose monkey climbing in the moviegoer’s laps while the theater’s owner and staff, Keystone Cop-like, tried to capture it. I learned that there was originally a bowling alley in the basement and that the carpets and water fountains were exact replicas of the ones found in the Roxy Theater in New York City. 

When people visit us, I often take them on what I like to call semi-speculative historical tours.  My narrative is a mix of things that I have heard, things that I have read, and things that may well be true about the various structures, streets, and natural features of my fair city.

People politely listen and silently wonder why we can’t just walk from point a to point b without a lecture seem to appreciate learning these tid-bits as much as I do and I think it really adds to the enjoyment of the visit.

Whenever I am some place new or come across something that is old, I learn whatever I can about it. I read every sign. Listen to every story. Google and Wikipedia the heck out of it. I think it makes me able to appreciate it more. Plus, it kills me not to know how things came to be.