The Projectionist: Step 17

During the year before Mr. Nelson’s class, while still challenged by mid-twentieth century views of American history, it was my good fortune to achieve a more exclusive status than cadet. Mrs. Leitinger, who wore the rhinestone encrusted glasses that slanted upward toward the ceiling, you know the ones like Lady Gaga is trying to make fashionable once again, liked to accompany our thick text with films from the “You Are There,” series. Narrated by Walter Cronkite, often referred to as the most trusted man in America, the films would take the viewer back to a setting just before or after a well-known incident in history took place. Walter as if he were a reporter arriving on the scene would interrupt one of the characters to ask him a question. Just as one of the generals of the revolution, Benedict Arnold, was about to answer one of Walter’s questions the image froze. Mrs. Leitinger switched off the projector and Sharon turned on the lights. Loops of film were squirting out the bottom and side of the projector. Breathing heavily and mumbling under her breath Mrs. Leitinger turned to her students to see if any of us could provide a remedy. Looking around it was surprising neither Gary nor Greg offered to assist, but then she could quash the assertiveness out of the most demonic children. Despite possessing limited small motor dexterity my interest in Ben’s response motivated me to take action. After carefully pulling the loops away from the teeth of the spools I realized the links or tracking holes were not properly aligned with the sprockets. As an aside, sprockets took on a whole new meaning during the nineties, when Mike Meyers, who would later be better known for Wayne’s World, Austin Powers and Shrek, invented a character on SNL named Dieter. Turns out, we discovered once the old sixteen millimeter projector was properly functioning and Sharon switched off the lights, Ben was going to flip over on the rebels and help out the Tories. Seems kind of weird, the notorious traitor became a loyalist by being disloyal to the revolutionaries. For my part I was given the responsibility of showing the films at the monthly Saturday morning film program Grantosa Drive ran for a while during my last two years there. Although the classics, 20000 Leagues Under the Sea with Kirk Douglas and The Day the Earth Stood Still with Michael Rennie were the most popular with the kids in attendance, my favorite was a under appreciated gem The Incredible Shrinking Man with Grant Williams. When he shrank to the size where he had to live in the dollhouse everyone was mesmerized. To my horror the film broke just as the cat knocked over the little house. Luckily I had recently learned to cut and splice the film. Then, weaving the pliable plastic onto the sprockets and rekindling the luminous lamp, we were able to watch the further reduced figure plunge the hat pin up into the abdomen of the spider allowing him to evolve into ever smaller molecules and atoms. Seldom have I experienced such adulation as when I reached the pinnacle of responsibility at Grantosa Drive the coveted position of projectionist.