Muse watson omaha1/22/2024 ![]() As a teenager, I would later assume that this slinky bevy of characters kept Cosmo’s Wigs in business all those years. Only used to illustrate my perception of the time.Ī little bit further west on Farnam, I would crane my neck every time to get a peek at the beautiful, mysterious ladies of the night and the sprinkling of young, pretty boys holed up in the Smoke Pit on a much needed break. This is a photo from the 1970s Bowery, NYC. Other men were scattered about in the shadows next-door, smoking. In memory some of the loners were in those light tan London Fog trench coats, popular at the time. The young nurses were not moved and properly retreated to their bus stop.) But back to the 70s, I just couldn’t understand why all of those men appeared to be ducking into that fascinating place alone. ![]() (Many years later my father would tell me about his college year exploits at the Muse–one time even taking a couple of sweet, unsuspecting nursing students for an “artful film” as a double date with his pal. I must have put them both through the ringer. I am convinced what followed must have been something of a parochial school girl Nancy Drew interrogation on my part. With Mother of Miss Cassette listening, to be sure. Mind you, the wording was altogether different, more of a 1970s father-to-daughter type of explanation. Father of Miss Cassette would later explain that this was an adult movie house and that the films shown were of a risqué nature. You see, it all began with my dying interest in the colorful, ever so playful marquee of the Muse Theater on 24 th and Farnam. Check out Mysteries of Omaha: 2561 Douglas Street for more details on the Park East Neighborhood. If you have read my articles for a while, you surely have picked up on my obsession for this strip of our city. I suppose that had its benefits as well.Ī favored stretch of the drive home was along Farnam Street, from 24 th to 28 th Streets. And I don’t know why I cared, honestly, but I am so glad I did, for a lot of my friends were happy to be playing tic-tac-toe with their brother on the windows of their family car while traveling through town. They really were very good about answering my questions. ![]() I would listen intently to my parents or my grandparents as they explained while driving what had been a once flourishing department store, what restaurant it would later become and the what happened next when business moved west, trying to put the architectural puzzle together in my mind. ![]() The real stars had left the set but the second string extras were still milling about smoking, waiting for that day’s pay. It was an open theater door to the adult world. Any curious child from any backseat could have seen what was really going on. Or like a well-constructed set of an old movie, not yet abandoned. Like a tour of the exotic world, Downtown Omaha at night seemed peppered with all sorts of flamboyant characters from faraway, novel places. I particularly loved the long, seemingly, tangled journey from Benson to any fine restaurant downtown and back again in the black of night. There was always so much to see from the backseat of my parents’ automobile.
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