There it was again,
after 63 years,
in black and white-
on cable-
"Knute Rockney",
the fabled coach
of Notre Dame.
I saw it first
at the "Rivoli",
our neighberhood theater-
and remember wearing
a maroon dress,
white bobby socks,
and saddle shoes,
kids giggling behind,
chewing on Milk Duds.
It was palpable again,
that time when slates
were clean and the future
meant the next party,
or dance, and when
the mysterious
"monthly friend"
would appear.

Last weekend,
as I watched it
on cable, the slate
well filled by now,
I was back at the Rivoli,
dressed in bobby socks
and saddle shoes, watching
a future President
( handsome then too )
in the part of George Gip.
I thought of the innocence
of the movie and of
the time it was made.
Five wars later, times
have buried that venue,
and my future of those
days, now known, has
been a grand play
whose final act soon
approaches.
After 63 years,
how nice to visit
the Rivoli again,
to taste the sweetness
of freedom from care,
and days filled
with giggles.

07/01/2003

Posted on 07/01/2003
Copyright © 2026 Jane E Pearce