My Lame Whitney Houston Story

In 1992, my life was between acts. I was between marriages, between jobs, teaching myself this whole new computer graphics thing that was changing the world. I was sad and depressed and things were still two or three years away from beginning to work out again.

I occasionally went to movies alone, mostly romantic comedies, for distraction.  In 1992, I went to see “The Body Guard” at the theater closest to my apartment. It was a two-screen movie house in the parking lot of a shopping strip on Midlothian Turnpike, not far from the channel 12 tower, far from upscale. That whole part of the highway was going downhill fast as businesses fled west.

I was not a fan of Whitney Houston. I sort of liked Kevin Costner, almost entirely for “Bull Durham.” I had never been to a mainly black movie theater before, and realized once I got in the lobby, that’s where I was.

The first thing I noticed was the food. Unlike other theaters, this one didn’t mind if you brought in your own food. The usher didn’t stop a single person. The theatergoers had bags of food, buckets of chicken, even coolers on wheels with food and beverages in them. There was even beer! They brought children and babies. The children ran loose through the theater throughout the movie, as if it was a McDonaldland play area. The babies cried.

The second thing I noticed was no one settled down in their seats once the movie began. Throughout the showing, people were up and walking around and talking. They talked to each other in loud voices. They talked to the screen. They ate meals. It was a regular picnic with just a movie incidentally playing in the background. I tried to follow the story, but there were so many distractions. This was a cultural difference for me. I don’t know if there are any theaters in town like this anymore. I haven’t experienced this since.

Where I go to movies, the only illegal food that gets in has to fit in a purse. People with babies and children are reported to the ushers for eviction unless it’s a children's movie. And talkers are stared down or get their seats kicked.

I remember nothing about “The Body Guard” plot now, and when I saw it on TV recently, it was all new to me. That's how distracting that theater was. It's not there anymore, and that part of town is still waiting to be rehabilitated.