A pre-war date night filled with classic charm and inappropriate refrigerator graffiti.
Do you ever have the feeling you were born in the wrong era? Many people consider themselves to be an old soul but for me, it's been a life-long quest to figure out just where I belong.
Since I was a little girl, I have been positively obsessed with old Hollywood glamour. Sitting on the bathroom toilet while my mother teased my hair beyond an inch of its life, I closed my eyes every time she got out the Aquanet. In those brief moments before coughing violently, I would imagine what it was like to live in the 1940s (minus all that WWII and Nazi stuff). It was a simpler time when ladies donned fabulous hats and gloves, and men, resplendent in three-piece suits, still held doors open for their dates. Everyone looked like the Christmas postcard versions of themselves. And people put that much effort into themselves daily! I can't imagine walking into a restaurant and seeing someone in the perfect cat-eye eyeliner and a mink stole, although it would be a welcomed departure from yoga pants and messy buns.
For as long as I have been sneaking into my mom's makeup palette to experiment with colored cheeks and lids, I have loved the art of glamour. The ethereal 80s icon Dolly Parton spoke words of truth and courage into me during these formative years: "It takes a lot of money and effort to look this cheap."
A few years ago, my incredible husband whose manners and gentility are truly from another time, purchased a piece of furniture that completed reshaped my time in the hair and makeup department.
For our sixth anniversary, he bought me a reproduction old Hollywood makeup vanity. I love this thing way more than any other piece in our house. When I'm sitting there, I feel I should be wearing one of those luxuriously long robes with the marabou feathers. Sadly, I did Google one of those recently and good ones sell for upwards of $600. Hard pass until our lottery money comes in.
Saturday afternoon, I sat in the comfy leather chair (my very first estate sale purchase when I was 19) to make myself look less homely. I was taking my husband on a hot date!
As many will tell you, marriage is all about balance and priorities. Having experienced sufficient couch lounging, we would have three stops before the big date. First, to drop in on our friends Aaron and Brooke's open house, second to buy a new dishwasher (ah, the romance!), third, to dinner, and lastly, I was taking my husband to the movies. But not just any megaplex. I was taking him to the fully restored State Theater in downtown Elizabethtown for a one-night showing of Avengers: Endgame. Yes, ladies, I dialed up the romance amp to 11. Take notes.
After marveling at the Penningtons gorgeous mix of industrial components and shiplap, we headed to Lowe's. Truth be known, I would rather buy war bonds than tackle any type of home improvement project, but my disgust of fascism is second only to my intolerance for hand-washing dishes.
While my adorable better half handled the boring purchasing part, I wandered around the appliance section, completely enchanted with the refrigerators that now offer touch screens and can connect with your smartphone. Imagine no more standing in the milk aisle at Kroger, unsure if your jug at home is already expired. Maybe living in this era isn't all bad.
Someone with a pre-pubescent boy's sense of humor had gotten there first, as several were littered in graffiti, heavy in the "F" word persuasion. Oscar Wilde once penned "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." But I disagree. I think writing profane words on fridge touch screens is the lowest form of wit. Or fart noises. It's a coin toss, really.
I did my good Samaritan deed of the day, carefully erasing them so parents of little kids would be spared. And no grannies would run screaming out of the store, forever advising their families that technology truly is a curse from Satan. Imagine Dana Carvey's "Church Lady" here for visual understanding.
As I made my way back to my husband, a birthday candle caught my eye. "Oh wow, can it remind you of people's birthdays? Or perhaps remind you that you have leftover birthday cake close to expiring?" I delightfully pondered to myself.
Oh no, someone had taken the time to draw a phallus on the touchscreen. And a celebratory phallus at that.
Amused and enchanted, I decided to leave it be, but not before snapping a picture for posterity. And my blog.
I think even Oscar Wilde would have appreciated this one.
Moments later, I made the Lowe's cashier bellow with laughter when I inserted my AmEx into the chip reader, all the while chanting "No Whammies! No Whammies! No Whammies!" Apparently, she was having a long day, and I was pleased I could offer her a comedic, albeit brief, respite. Having worked with the public myself, I can tell you it's a nonstop roller coaster of torture. The customer is not always right if he/she is subjecting you to a meth-fueled tirade about an expired coupon.
Much lighter in the wallet and on time, we headed to Chick Fil A, for some of the Lord's chicken, and that amazing avocado lime ranch dressing I love so much. The hubby was in great spirits, despite us blowing our Dave Ramsey budget for the month. We had not only incurred a costly and futile dishwasher repair but the inevitable replacement of the entire appliance. Luckily, we have progressed beyond baby step one, so we had the cash to cover it.
Marveling at the ginormous line that had formed as we ate, I joked that maybe Popeye's was out of their chicken sandwiches again. Not to worry, they'd get their crowds back the next day.
So onto our actual date. My friends Melanie and Kajeana and I had the pleasure of seeing "The Wizard of Oz" a few weeks back. While I was in the bathroom, I noticed a special Marvel night, my husband's preferred genre.
The State Theater was built in 1942 and has all the art deco charm you would expect of a beautiful building from that era. Smooth, polished chrome greets you at both the ticket booth and concession stand, which thankfully hasn't adopted today's standards of charging you $895 for a small popcorn and Coke.
Brian opted for his favorite - Reese's Pieces, but I just stuck to water, still stuffed to the gills from my chicken salad.
While we waited for our feature presentation, I got on the State's website to learn a little more about the history of this gorgeous place.
I imagined all of the amazing films that enchanted the locals or how many bags of popcorn had been consumed while "Twelve Angry Men" or "Rebel Without a Cause" dazzled on the silver screen.
It was a bit morose to learn that the last film shown prior to closing in 1982 was "E.T." Not even Spielberg's beloved alien (and fellow Reese's Pieces aficionado) could stop the inevitable closing. Despite the theater sitting vacant for over a decade, the community began raising funds to bring this cornerstone of art and culture back to life.
It gloriously reopened in 2009 and won national awards for historic preservation. So lesson learned kids, you can still enjoy a movie without an IMAX sound system or the latest in 3D technology. The State Theater nowadays not only hosts great movies, but classic movies, theater productions, and we even supported our friend Steve's band 3GC's performance a few years ago. In the lobby, I noted an upcoming showing of "Grease" and I was utterly delighted to learn it was a singalong showing. I got chills. They were multiplying!
One thing I will say about all theaters. I think Americans have forgotten about the basic privacy bubble that you should give your fellow moviegoers. If you sit directly in front or behind me, I get super cranky. I don't want to smell the bouquet of your personal funk, nor do I want to hear you fishing popcorn kernels out of your teeth. And if you speak more than three words during the film, I will turn around and give you a speech about common decency worthy of a Frank Costanza Festivus gathering.
A few years ago, our beloved dance instructor Susan told us she always wears a surgical mask when she goes to the movies. "People will avoid sitting next to you if they think you're sick," she advised.
Susan's evil genius plan has always stuck with me, but having left the house without my doomsday mask, I did what any normal person who hates having her personal space invaded would do. I cough loudly anytime someone approached the row in front or behind us.
It worked!
A little evil, but as we're coming in to fall allergy season, only 1/3 of my coughs were fake. But I did give an Oscar-worthy performance for each of them. Even groaning in mock frustration on occasion for added emphasis.
As the movie began with my personal bubble intact, and the hubby and I sat comfortably for Avenger's three-hour run time. The movie was a perfect and fitting end to the cinematic universe. I was not disappointed.
While we were walking to the car, I noted the first thing I would do if I won the lottery. "I would buy out every single seat in the theater so we could watch our favorite movies together." I chirped. And then I opened my calculator option and began to put the plan into real terms. "If the theater seats 650 and our tickets were $3 each, that's only $1,950 per movie, plus the cost of snacks. Totally worth it."
The hubby looked at me perplexed, "Why would we not just build our own theater at home?"
"Oh no!" I exclaimed. "I have to get all dressed up to take you on a date. First dinner, then a movie. Otherwise, you'd get yoga pants and a messy bun at home. That's not very romantic."
And he smiled at me, grabbing my hand and bringing it gently to his lips. "I'm glad you're planning to continue dating me in the future."
All in all, it was a fabulous date night. I wouldn't have changed a thing. I got to experience a little magic of old Hollywood glamour with my favorite leading man. While I would have looked silly with an oversized brooch or a gathering of feathers sticking out of a wide-brimmed hat, I realized we can still bring a little old Hollywood glamour to our modern lives by courting each other on occasion. Even if it's a Dave Ramsey style of romance.
Thanks for reading!
~ Christy