Matti Silks was
the madam of a “parlor house”, otherwise known as a house of ill repute during
the late 19th and early 20th century. She began her “career” in Kansas, Dodge City,
Hutchinson, Hays, Great Bend.
She relocated
her “family” to Colorado, Leadville, Denver, Florence, Cripple Creek, and even
to Alaska for a while. (She left Alaska
because she had to pay both the local gendarmes and the Royal Mounted Police,
too expensive, she said.) Matti
recounted some of the details of her personal and professional life, including
a duel she fought with another madam over a man they both favored. (They both missed their target. The object of their affection received a
bullet wound to the cheek.)
“Matti” recalled
many of her fellow “Madams of Colorado”, the title of her show. The last of the great parlor houses closed
down in the 1980’s. It was in Lusk,
Wyoming. Matti credited the Lusk house’s
longevity to the fact the madam owned the local power plant and threatened to
shut off the city’s power whenever authorities tried to shut her down.
The library mini
show started at 7 p.m. We were home a
little after 8 p.m. “The Ten
Commandments” must have been on for an hour or more when we tuned in. It reminded me of the first time I saw it, in
a theater.
I didn’t see the
beginning of that one either. It must
have been 1956 or 1957. It was an
October day. I had been to a “slumber
party” on Friday night. Saturday morning
was beautiful, but Saturday afternoon was overcast and starting to cool off. Several of my fellow slumberers left for home
before noon, but my ride home was my dad who was at the time engaged in
converting Eric Carlson’s garage to Evelyn’s beauty parlor.
We didn’t go
directly home. My younger siblings were
at the theater in Limon taking in “The Ten Commandments.” We sat in the car parked near the theater
waiting for the movie to end and we could all go home. I mentioned to Dad that I hadn’t seen the
movie, so he fished out 50 cents (or whatever the price of admission was) and I
entered the theater in the middle of the movie.
I don’t know
that I have ever seen the beginning of the movie. I don’t remember if I saw the end of the
movie either. I recollect Dad coming
into the theater before the movie was over.
The Lincoln theater had the distinction of being one of few movie houses
where the patrons enter from the front of the theater, so the movie-goers could
see who was coming or going without turning around and gawking.
We saw Dad come in, so finding us in the dark theater wasn't too hard to do. He said it was beginning to
snow heavily and we needed to get home before it turned into a regular
blizzard. I don’t remember if we
convinced him that the movie was almost over and we could stay until the end. I do remember seeing the stone tablets
getting chiseled by the lightning, one of the many special effects in the
movie.
I didn’t make
the end last night, either. With five
minutes of commercials every twenty minutes or so, the movie ran well beyond my
bedtime. I stuck it out through the Passover
and the great exodus. I watched as the
great sea closed over Yul’s army of chariots, horses, and soldiers. At the first commercial after that scene, I
called it quits.
It was a great
movie. Even though some of the special
effects seem rather corny now, they were great for the mid-fifties. The Goodwife mentioned the painted
backdrops. Maybe they looked better on
the big screen. We hadn’t had television
for more than two or three years at the time, and it seemed a great movie then.
I doubt I will
ever see the whole thing start-to-finish.
With my limited capacity to stay awake in any movie, and my diminished ability
to concentrate on anything for very long any more, I don’t see me sticking with
any movie for four hours.
Hey wait! Maybe it could be featured on trans-Atlantic
flights. That would take up a big chunk
of seat time.
Whoever said life
was about the journey, not the destination, never flew non-stop from Denver to
London.
No comments:
Post a Comment