My dear friend George emailed me a link with recent pictures from The Strand, one of many grand old theatres in our hometown of Binghamton, NY. Those images inspired this poem. Thanks, George!
THE STRAND THEATRE, BINGHAMTON, NY
She was what they used to call A Grande Dame:
Stately, opulent, inspiring awe and delight.
Follow me back in time…
Look up: Tiffany crown.
Look down: Plush carpet.
Look around: Roomy seats, wide stage, velvet curtain, affording itinerant vaudevillians room to slay ‘em with a joke (told 2,380 times from Omaha to Syracuse, but here, heard by fresh ears, rewarded with belly laughs).
Room for dancers to tap sway meringue swing do their thing.
Singers thrived on the Strand’s perfect acoustics.
As with all perfect miracles on earth,
vaudeville died,
and She, the stately Grande Dame,
found her spacious stage usurped by a screen.
Movies drifted from Keaton to Talmadge
Robert Taylor to Rod Taylor
to Johnny Rodd (“Deep Throat played there;
the Art Theatre was deemed too small,
its floor sticky with patrons’ souvenirs)
Eventually, like even the gamest of girls,
she was abandoned.
Now she’s a shell of her former shined and
shimmering self, laid low by scavengers
and an abortive attempt at plastic surgery.
But within, her heart beats in steady memories.
Echoes of Liberace, who packed the house
(winking at fawning old ladies and
joking about his brother George).
Echoes of Ish Kabibble and Hugh Herbert,
leaving ‘em in stitches.
Echoes of the pit band, all local musicians
earning a decent living doing what they loved.
Echoes of singers whose names are remembered
only by a cloud of witnesses floating in
a plaster-dust atmosphere
or written on peeling wallpaper.
A strand of pearls, unstrung, save in our hearts.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 
booguloo
Reminds me of Loews State Theater in Syracuse where I grew up and left in 72 at 18. Brrr… Don’t even know if it’s still there or not.
Sharp Little Pencil
Booguloo, everyone has a special childhood theater. George simply researched it… I think it’s “classic theaters” or some other Google link, or you can backtrack from the link on my poem page…
Hey, I was Binghamton and now am outside Buffalo…. moving to MADISON, WI! I was born to wear snow pants, ha ha. Thanks for stopping by! Amy
Ellen
I love this; YOU really made me go back to my childhood. My Dad was a projectionist and met my Mom at the theater. She worked the concession stand. I have fond memories; my comfort food is popcorn! lol
My Dad use to work in my towns and cities. He would frequent a theater called the STRAND in Rockland, ME
Thank you for the lovely memories, it was beautifully written! xXx
http://www.rocklandstrand.com/
Sharp Little Pencil
Ellen, I LOVE that you included this link to show your Strand is alive and kicking! The transition to art house (I noticed they are showing “Nowhere Boy,” the Lennon film that only got limited release, and I love those little films; my husband and I go out of the way to support them) was very savvy.
The story of your parents, so touching, I hope you write a poem about them someday, if you haven’t already. My Dad also used to ferry in to NYC for work during the Depression and had lots of favorite theatres there. He would be 100 this year, so he was back in the days of Pathe Newsreels, a cartoon, a serial, and a double feature for a nickle, maybe a dime at most!
Thanks for this. I’ll stop by your blog now! Peace, love, and extra butter, Amy
Debbie
You did such a good job capturing the feel, emotion, memories . . .thank you! You create magic with your words, Amy, pulling something wonderful out of a picture, moment, thought.
Sharp Little Pencil
Debbie, thank you so much for your kind words. Those shots sent to me (did the link work for you?) were amazing. Peace, Amy
Sherry Blue Sky
Beautiful wonderful poem, rich with images and memory, those good old days when theatre was Theatre and stars were truly stars, all a-glitter. Love this fantastic trip down memory lane. So well done!
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks so much, Sherry. I’m something of a throwback, having sung Gershwin, Fats Waller, Billie Holiday, et al since I was a little kid. I feel a special kinship with those bygone stars and love the dank smell of an old theatre!