The Day That Show Biz Bit the Dust

18 Jul

The world of show biz took a hit in 1939 that it never recovered from. The day they shut down the Hippodrome in New York City.

The Hippodrome that grand gee-gaw of a monstrosity. Filled with Fairs and freaks. With rubber neckers and rubes. With the wide-eyed and the jaded. Like a wedding cake made of stone. Like a castle in the clouds that the Gods made solid.

Silly spires and huge tracts of wasted space. Flags unfurled. Heart abeating and dreams shooting like sky rockets. Enough immenseness to make a farm boy tremble. Enough majesty to make a king think of switching jobs. (But just for a second, I mean come on, he’s a king!)

Plunging horses with maniacs on their back. (You don’t think they’d plunge on their own accord, do you?) Clowns in duds to make the rainbow green with envy. And guys in cheap hats (no Trilbys here unless they are made out of felt). Gunsels in high collars with a death grip on their wallets but a greedy eye on yours.

Everybody chasing the American Dream. (The real plunging horse.)

And what have we got to replace that Dreadnought of Show Business? Guys whose job it is to Tweet and 1.2 billion apps. America, you got punked


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