Old cinema, old night club, old gathering place. The old ways of doing things. There once was entertainment, bright lights, music and the sounds of laughter and the gasps of amazement. Woosh. Artificial darkness. The stars came down, settled in and moved on. In buses and cars, in reels of film, on vinyl, flickering images fused in technical ecstasy and beefed up through amplification, we saw and heard. Billboards and lobby cards lined the route, sweeties and programmes. Glamour puss. Oh how they danced. Ice cream and alcohol. The Arena. Good old days. The social hub. Wrecked and ruined, on a slippery slope. We all had a good laugh then.
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