Saturday Arvo At The Flics
You can forget your church on Sunday
Or watching footy kicks
Us kids just couldn’t wait
For Saturday arvo at the Flics
When the noonday sun was highest
We’d all queue up for our ticks
Except for Max
No dogs allowed unfortunately
But that was o’right by Max
For he knew his limitations
You could always count on Max
To never rise above his station.
So sadly minus Max
We’d descend into the hall
And breath in that spacious musty smell
Of carpet, and Lysol
We’d settle in our seats
As the lights would slowly dim
The curtains would creak open
And the projector would kick in .
A flickering beam of light
Would strike upon the screen
And those scratchy countdown numbers
Would reflect back to our team
Filled with muted expectation,
For the hall was dark as night.
First we’d rise to greet the Queen
Then at the Cinesound News we’d stare
But even blind Freddy could surmise
That weren’t why we were there.
We’d come to see Road Runner
And that stick of dynamite,
Whether Tonto saved Lone Ranger
On Universal’s backlot, black as night
While Mickey Mouse , brought down the house
And Goofey shucked & gawed
And Popeye fought with Bluto
Over the slinky Olive Oil.
So’d come intermission
Dazed, we’d walk out in the sun,
Wander down to Fotios’s
Buy a malted milk and discuss the fun
Seated in a wooden booth
Surrounded by wood veneer
Beneath a scene of Tropic Splendour
And a greasy fan that scythed the air.
Till it came time to go back
And catch up on the main show
That longed-for feature film
Starring Bogey and Garbo.
And content we’d leave the flea-house
Where waiting Max with the gyrating tail, I’d greet
Happy to do it all again
At the Saturday flics next week.
