February 23, 2017 (Thursday)
I was nine years old when Christmas came in 1940, bringing me a movie projector. It was a 16 mm projector from Sears. An ordinary light bulb with a concave reflector behind it provided the light, and a simple arrangement of spring belts, pulleys and cog wheels controlled the film and projected the picture on a wall or sheet hung on a wall, for a screen.
I was given a few films with the projector. One was a Donald Duck cartoon, with Mickey Mouse and all the gang. I remember its title: “Busting Bubbles.” Another film was Charlie Chaplin as the little tramp. And the third was a western with Charles Starrett and cowboys in white hats. Each film ran only a few minutes, but I considered it the most wonderful gift one could ever have.
Many years later, my father-in-law gave my wife enough money to buy an 8 mm movie camera for my mother-in-law as a Christmas gift. She took a lot of home movies through the years of family members. We now have those films on DVD’s and it’s fun to watch present-day grandparents when they were toddlers learning to walk, on those old movies.
A wonderful friend sent me some very old movies transferred to DVD’s of my old home church in Houston during a Vacation Bible School. What fun it is to see them in those films.
Movies capture the past and bring it to life. It’s so interesting to see old films of movie stars long since deceased in real life but brought back by the films from yesteryear. The images on the films never grow old and the players thrill us again and again as we watch.
Most people these days carry cameras that function as computers and have the capability of making videos. Every day we are treated to the latest video of just about every behavior possible. Coupled with social media, there seems to be no end of available movies for us all.
Do you think it’s possible that some day people will look back at our modern technological marvels as remnants of “the good old days?” They won’t have to guess about what went on in 2017–they will have videos of it all.