In God we trust_ all others pay cash - Jean Shepherd [102]
“Awright, ya bastards! Who’s the smart ass?”
His fists were like two giant clubs at his side. Another great roar, more of a snort actually, from the audience en masse. The sweat gleamed on his forehead as he dredged his visceral depths with a quivering, snorting hawk, and the offended artist let fly a large silver oyster into the void. To a man, cut to the quick, the outraged critics arose and rushed over, under, around, and beside the seats, thousands of kids cheering and bird-whistling, goading the battlers on. It was the first time that Mr. Doppler called the police in order to get the second feature under way. It was not to be the last.
Thursday was Sing Along Night, and it was the one night of the week that Mr. Doppler was forced to book a real movie. It was on Thursdays that Bob Hope and Bing Crosby traveled their eternal Road, panting and leering after Dorothy Lamour. It was on Thursday that Gary Cooper sat tall in his dusty, worn saddle. It was on Thursday that Andy Hardy, better known as Mickey Rooney, and Judy Garland decided to put on a show to buy the serum for the Widow’s boy, dying of a strange, unnamed Hollywood disease while Donald O’Connor, the wise-guy freshman, made passes at Andy’s girl in the gym between tap dances. Thursday was Serious Picture Night, and in keeping with the solemn occasion Mr. Doppler also presented the Orpheum Sing Along.
As Bob and Bing rode their camel off into the sunset and the Paramount mountain shimmered hotly on the beaded screen, rising from the cavernous darkness of the pit, electric motors humming, the mighty Orpheum Wurlitzer rose, sparkling and glowing, sequins shimmering and catching the light. A massive, brilliant white, multi-tiered instrument, it rose like some specter, and seated before the impressive, arching keyboard, golden, wavy hair shimmering, white tuxedo coat spotless, sat the famous Orpheum organist, booming out “Chiribiribim” as on screen a slide appeared with a scene of gypsies caught in mid-fandango, tambourines raised, eyes flashing hotly, in eye-searing Technicolor. The organist spun on his twirling seat, unveiling a grinning set of dentures that made anything that Liberace was to do later along the same lines pale to insignificance. The slide changed:
“Follow the bouncing ball and sing along with the world-famous Orpheum Wurlitzer.”
A beautiful moonlit scene appeared, sailboat in the middle foreground, two silhouetted couples mooning against the sky, and above.
“Red Sails in the Sunset.…”
The white ball bounced from word to word as the audience, conditioned by countless hours of Kate Smith, Harry Horlich and the A & P Gypsies, Jessica Dragonette and the Silver Masked Tenor, belted it out. A Depression audience did not mess around. When that bouncing ball bounced, they belted!
Beside me in the darkness my mother giggled self-consciously but sang on, curlers rattling, eyes shining as the mighty Orpheum organ bellowed. The empty coal bin and next month’s rent forgotten as slide after slide marched across Mr. Doppler’s Sing-Along screen. The only time I ever heard my Old Man sing was when the mighty Wurlitzer, like some demonic pipe of Pan, drove him on.
“Betty Coed has lips of red for Harvard,
“Betty Coed has eyes of Yale’s deep blue,
“Betty Coed.…”*
And on screen a cheerleader in white sweater and white ice-cream pants, with big block Y, held his megaphone high as a golden-haired coed, Betty herself, tilted her perky profile toward an orange sky, as the ball bounced.
So went Thursday. And after Thursday, inevitably, Friday, and it was Friday that finally proved to be Mr. Doppler’s Armageddon.
For years theater owners everywhere had struggled bravely to keep the seats filled. Not that people didn’t want to go to the movies. They did, even more maniacally than now. But cold cash was hard to come by, especially cash to be used for Fred MacMurray Viewing and Mickey Mouse Ogling. A moviegoer had to have a real excuse for buying a ticket; an investment in Reality, a utilitarian expense. And one historic night Mr. Doppler came up with his master