Summers (Late 1970’s and 80’s)

Every summer the cult merged at the Wheeler Opera House for its annual gathering.  They came from all walks of life and were of all ages, well sort of…

Immediately after the evening showing of the latest offering from Hollywood, with the last of the movie-goers exiting the theater, Mr. Swales and John Beusch prepared the two-story opera house for the strange activities that were about to commence.  Bad singing, bad acting and bad audience behavior was about to take center stage.

My first meeting of the cult, although having been warned, was a shock to say the least.  Some came in costume dressed as transvestites, others in tuxedos and even more wearing rain coats.  What had I gotten myself into?  Ham Tharp was to blame as he convinced me I had to come.  Much to my surprise, just about my entire high school class and many students from the other grades were in attendance.  So were local doctors, business owners, lawyers and a number adult family friends.  I just thanked the Lord that no one else from my family was there.  Well, except for Brenna, my cousin, and I could handle that.

Having insisted that we sit near the front, Ham led us to what he described as the best seats in the house.  On this particular night, Mr. Swales dispensed with the usual round of previews of upcoming movies and started the night’s feature presentation.

“The Rocky Horror Picture Show!”

Almost immediately after the lights went dim the film cut to a rainy night with a young couple stuck out in the middle of nowhere with a flat tire.  As the rain came down I was suddenly getting wet.  Now I got my first clue, the rain coats.

As the movie progressed I quickly learned the audience participation rituals.  “Weiss” was called out every time Brad, Barry Bostwick, mispronounced Janet’s last name.  “Boo” was also used on Brad’s behalf.  When the scene came to the cloud-filled room a bunch of audience members ran to the stage with newspapers as if to blow the clouds away right on cue.

Then it happened, a lull in the activity on screen and in the audience and I heard a familiar sound.  A sound that had only one source and it came from the balcony level just above my head.  My oldest sister, Cindy, was in the audience.  Had she seen me? Had I done anything that she could pass onto my parents?  My only hope was that I could remain hidden and that she stayed unaware of my presence.  Wel,l that did not go so well either.  Before I could say anything, one of the people I was sitting with called out, “Hey Doug, isn’t that your sister?”  And they said it loud enough for all to hear.  All I wanted to do was to sneak out but that was not possible.  For the rest of the night I remained in my seat and tried to maintain a low profile.  A funny thing was I never heard Cindy make another sound for the rest of the movie either.  Turns out neither of us had wanted to be discovered and both of us thought we were the only ones in our family in attendance.

The evening was a strange one to say the least but I really enjoyed the mayhem that was all part of this ritual.  I continued to attend the annual viewing and even went with Cindy a couple of times over the following years.  I later learned that all of my siblings had attended a viewing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show at one time or another.  I also learned over the years what to bring and what to do as part of the audience participation.

I am not sure when it happened but ultimately the annual showings stopped, and one more part of my childhood had gone into the history books forever.