






|
|
|
 The
CALIFORNIA theater was located on the corner of California Ave. and Magnolia
Blvd. Unknown to me at the time, the theater was the closest to my home
(only a scant twelve blocks). I had only attended the theater a couple of
times with friends to see matinees that our parents (actually my friends
parents) would approve of.
So it was in those musty halls that I witnessed such fanciful fair as
"Journey to the Beginning of Time", "The Magic Voyage of Sinbad", "The Sword
and the Dragon", "Hey There! It's Yogi Bear" and "A Man Called Flintstone"
all at the wonderful admission price of .50 cents.
The Theater had a nice sized screen (it's actual size is unknown, eight year
old are not that concerned with measurements). A balcony was also available
for adults only (another of those instances of adult secrecy that was of
constant fascination during our youth).
My memories of the California theater are dim to say the least. What I do
recall were the marvelous flavored popcorn (peanut butter flavored or was
that just a poor man's Cracker Jack), the deadly aroma of mildewed
carpeting, and the occasional seat that would somehow force a spring up
through it's cushion at the most inappropriate times. The front rows of the
California were simply an adventure that no kid could pass up.
The California Theater as I remember it, the aroma of the front several rows
prevented them from being occupied (on the advice of our adult supervision).
Now this may have simply been a one time experience. It was during a matinee
screening of 'A Man Called Flintstone", so being as how I chronically rely on
my driver's license to find my way home, I may not have a full recollection
of this particular memory. I do recall that running in the theater was
strictly forbidden (signs noted this throughout the lobby, even a title card
on the screen before the film) This was usually enforced by escorting the
offending child into the lobby and I believe severely questioning him under
bright popcorn lamps until forced to finally reveal his phone number or name
so that parents could be called and chastised. This was actually a good
thing too as I learned on one occasion, when I became inordinately aware
that traction at the front row of the auditorium was virtually non-existent.
A quiet yelp, and immediate rubbing of bruised knees put paid to that
activity for the remainder of my youth.
After The California closed it's doors, it remained vacant for several
years. It finally became the home of the Burbank Community Church. I could
not, for the life of me envision worshipping in such a place. Piety surely
was not worth that much of a sacrifice. Later in the 1970's the old theater
was renovated and rebuilt. The current building (which is still the home of
the Burbank Community Church), is a nice structure that gives a hint of it's
former incarnation.
|