[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ admin_label=”section” _builder_version=”4.16″ global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row admin_label=”row” _builder_version=”4.16″ background_size=”initial” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat” custom_padding=”||11px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ custom_padding=”|||” global_colors_info=”{}” custom_padding__hover=”|||”][et_pb_post_title meta=”off” featured_image=”off” _builder_version=”4.23.2″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_post_title][et_pb_text admin_label=”Text” _builder_version=”4.23.2″ background_size=”initial” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n
The Hollywood Theatre once stood proudly on the corner of Logan and Chatsworth Roads in Greenslopes. Every Saturday morning in 1938 I would take my sixpence (five cents) to attend the tap-dancing class that was held at the back of the stage. I was ten. There was a matinee at the theatre each Saturday, with two films and an episode of the serial Flash Gordon, plus a cartoon of Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck. The place would be packed with youngsters sitting in the canvas chairs. There was quite a lot of Jaffa-rolling down the sloping, concrete floor, and lots of tittering and giggles. When the films were playing and it was dark, the proprietor, Mr. Marshall Palmer, would patrol the central aisle with his torch, making sure there was no \u2018funny business\u2019 going on. And every month or so, during interval, the spotlight would be on the stage. The tap-dance class, complete with red lipstick and very pink rouge, arms linked, would tap our way onto the boards. I remember performing to the music of \u2018The Lambeth Walk.\u2019 Resplendent in black satin bloomers with a white satin blouse, we sang as we tap-danced, just as Betty Grable would. Once you get down Lambeth Way, Any evening any day, You\u2019ll find yourself—Doin\u2019 the Lambeth Walk! Oi!<\/p>\n
[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.23.2″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.23.2″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”-82px|auto||auto||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.23.2″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_blog show_thumbnail=”off” show_author=”off” show_date=”off” show_categories=”off” _builder_version=”4.23.2″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_blog][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Hollywood Theatre once stood proudly on the corner of Logan and Chatsworth Roads in Greenslopes. Every Saturday morning in 1938 I would take my sixpence (five cents) to attend the tap-dancing class that was held at the back of the stage. I was ten. There was a matinee at the theatre each Saturday, with […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"Recent news about crows menacing humans reminded me of my school days when Marty, Joan and I would walk barefoot the five kilometres from our home on Buccan Hill to the Logan Village School.\r\nThe first hundred or so metres down the long hill were safe enough, but then we must pass the big gum tree that stood near the entrance to the cow paddock of rich pasture on the Logan River. In this tree nested the crows!\r\nI suppose it was only at nesting time that the crows would attack us, but we were always wary, looking upwards as we approached, and getting ready to run! I think the birds sensed that we were afraid and would remain quiet as we sauntered nearer, pretending we were fearless. Just when we thought we were safely past the danger spot, the crows would swoop, screeching their war-cry! Our little legs sprang into action, running as fast as we could as the birds swooped over our heads, again and again, terrifying us as we raced breathlessly towards the creek where we knew low hanging willows would give us some shelter. The crows did their job well; their nest was safe.\r\nThen it was on to school, past the meat-ant nests that pitted the old gravel road. It seemed that these big red ants were out to get us too...but that\u2019s another story.","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1,26],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-947","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-general","category-musings"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/947","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=947"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/947\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":949,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/947\/revisions\/949"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=947"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=947"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=947"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}