AT THE ROXY
big Saturday dilemma was always whether to pay 9d (about four of your new
English pence) to sit in the stalls or 1/3d (6p or so) to sit up in the
balcony. It was a cruel and difficult choice to make; pay the lesser amount
and have more for sweets, or splash out but have the unrivalled pleasure
of being able to chuck stuff on the children below. Well-chewed gum was
a particular favourite.
Truthfully, I can only vaguely remember the many films that I must have seen at the Roxy in the sixties. Swiss Family Robinson sticks out as a favourite and we were all big Norman Wisdom fans, which my wife finds utterly inexplicable. But the film was only part of the pleasure; just as much fun was to be rowdy enough to get old Mr Pinder or his son Michael in with a torch shouting at us to shut up and
down. Not many Saturdays passed without that happening.
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