My heart always flutters when I find these old theaters. All the romance of a lost America returns. And when they are still operating and, somehow, perfectly preserved, right down to the ticket booth, it’s really special. Obviously, someone loves this little theater. Probably the whole town loves it. Obviously, I would have loved to have happened upon it without the pickup parked in front, but that’s life when you pass through places on the road. Perhaps next time. Perhaps not. Either way, it’s all there. In fact, I may one day come to appreciate that little Ford Ranger in the frame. It may very well belong to the ticket-taker. It may one day come to define the shot in some ways. I’m okay with it.