Friday, June 6, 2008
Page 15
AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)
Universal Fire Brings Back Memories
By J’AMY PACHECO
By now, you’ve probably heard about the big fire on the backlot at Universal Studios.
When I first read about the blaze in the breaking stories section of my online news page, I thought it had to be a brush fire. But when I later read a Los Angeles Times report of what had burned, I found myself feeling not only surprise that such a large chunk of tourist attraction had gone up in flames, but sad.
I initially thought it was sort of stupid that I felt such nostalgia for a place that is not only expensive to visit, but that entails repeatedly waiting in long lines of sticky tourists to actually get to see anything.
But it makes sense that I would feel that way. Me and Universal — we go way back. We have history, you might say.
My parents divorced when I was four. During childhood visits with our father, my siblings and I got to choose one special thing to do. Every other year or so, one of us would pick Universal Studios.
Back then, Universal wasn’t the parking-structured, CityWalk-fronted, trendy place it is now. You parked in a big, flat lot right outside the studio, and walked up to the ticket gate. Once inside, you immediately joined the line to take the tram tour around the studio, watching clips and commercials on video monitors placed throughout the queue.
The tram would periodically stop, and its passengers would get off to do things like walk through Lucille Ball’s bungalow and learn about makeup and special effects. About halfway through the tour, visitors were deposited at a snack station where we rarely ate but always climbed around giant telephones and things that were apparently once used as props in some incredible shrinking person movie. Then it was back to the tram, where we’d see the houses from “Psycho” and “Leave it to Beaver.”
Over the years, Universal got bigger and better. At some point, they changed things so you could board the tram whenever you wanted. They added the big, scary shark from “Jaws,” and a banana-breathed “King Kong.” But some things stayed the same, like the old collapsing bridge that gave way when trams drove across.
I didn’t go much as an adult, until my daughter was about five. A relative took us, and because Universal had a deal which let you spend a few dollars more and upgrade to an annual pass, we found ourselves with tickets good for a year. We went a lot that year, and the next. But our visits to the Los Angeles area slowed down, and our tourist visits to Universal ended.
I spent quite a few Saturdays running “loose” on the backlot when I edited a publication for a writers’ organization that met there. I had to park on the roof of a building where studio workers made things out of wood, and I loved to spend time gazing over the studio and surrounding hills from up high.
My favorite part was driving in the studio. Cars have to yield to trams, and passing tourists looked at me like they were trying to figure out who I was. I always smiled and waved like they should know. It was great fun, and as close as I’ll ever come to being a celebrity.
To think that King Kong, New York and the “Back to the Future” courthouse went up in flames makes me sad. I’m not sure if my nostalgia comes from my own memories of the place, or from the movies that were made there.
I’ve always loved going to see movies. I enjoy the way it feels to sit in a big theater and watch the lights go down and the film come up (although I could do without the 20 minutes of trailers that now precede every movie I see). I remember being bored out of my mind when my mom dropped us off for a triple-feature of Clint Eastwood westerns; confused as could be after seeing “2001: A Space Odyssey” before reading the novel, scared half to death after “Poltergeist,” and desperately in love with a young Robby Benson after seeing “Jory” (which nobody except me remembers). I’ll never forget crying all the way home after seeing “Titanic.”
A trip to Universal meant getting to see the places films like these were made. It was as close as an ordinary kid like me could get to the magic of the movies.
I suppose Universal will do now what it always does after a film is made: clean up the mess, make new sets, and start on another one. When they do, I think I’ll take another trip out there to see how things have changed over the past few years.
I can live with change — as long as the old bridge remains. Because me and that bridge — we go way back. We have history, as they say.
Copyright 2008, Metropolitan News Company