The Georgia Theatre

(Photo added Sept. 3, 2009.)

I don't know what to say about the burning of the Georgia Theatre.

(The place had gotten a paint job at some point. When I came back into town, it was one of the many changes I noticed. It used to be this perfectly-dull non-color color. It was just a place for the pigeons to shit on. I remembered their silhouettes at the top of the wall, like photos of birds on wires.)

When I first heard, I couldn't fathom missing the place.

(I drove Michele Head's Mustang into the wall of the parking deck and got relieved of my driving duties. It was really just a bump and a scratch. We were on our way to see Pylon and I couldn't tell you how young I was. That was the first show I ever went to, anywhere. All ages. Opening band had something to do with Mark Bell. For a long time I kept one of the flyers in my stuff. Reverend Martin's Alliance?)

You know, you don't think of yourself as an advocate for the Georgia Theatre, but you've been there.

(My sister had come to town and we were going to see the Cowboy Junkies. We didn't have tickets. It was magical the way we came around the corner and someone gave them to us. Man, I used to love the Cowboy Junkies.)

You walk by it every day, knowing what to expect.

(RE: "Happiness": We left the theater completely unable to talk. Some movies leave a mark. I don't think I said a word for an entire day.)

I started thinking about the times I had been there. I started to realize they were sprinkled throughout my life. Moments in my multiple histories.

(In the years that I was away from Athens, the parking lot beside the theatre would enter my thoughts from time to time. It wasn't because of anything special that had happened there. It was for the countless times that lot was crossed in the middle of one of my nights out, plodding on to the next bar. Going down to the Engine Room. I could've made that trajectory in my sleep. Come to think of it, I probably did sleep that walk a time or two.)

Places become connected to us.
Reference points for the things we want to hold on to.

(Mid-afternoon, walking home, it started to rain just as I was coming up on the theatre. I ducked under the marquee and decided to wait it out. An old man asked me for a cigarette and we stood there talking about nothing for a while. The rain lasted long enough for us to sit down with our backs against the wall. I can't remember his name. I can't remember anything we talked about. I felt right though. A smoke and a cigarette and a conversation in the middle of a rain in Georgia. I'm pretty sure that's why I never carry an umbrella.)

What do you remember?

2 Comments

When we lived on Christopher Dr in Gainesville my friend Danny had an aunt who lived in Athens. We would go up there a lot in the summertime. As young teenagers at the time(1970's)we were looking for girls! We had a band at the time and we played it up like we were really good.
The Georgia Theater downtown had bands in there and we would go and hang out.
There were some great bands in that place, sometimes local acts. I remember this one band that played heavy rock with no vocals. Very dark music. Remember those light projectors in school the ones you used a grease pencil to write on? Well they took shallow bowls of clear oil and placed it on top of the projector so the light shines through the oil and onto the screen. What they would do is place drops of colored liquid in the oil to create this great floating pastel of colors. Throw in the Black Lites and flourisent paintings and wow it was cool. It's a funny that you(Garland) remembered the parking lot. That was the place to be. And well because we often did not have money to get in.
Anyway thats one of my memories of The Georgia Theater via 1970's
Dale