Exhibitors Herald (1925)

28 EXHIBITORS HERALD April 4, 1925 ^“Skinnin’ ’em Good” concludes the initial series of business articles by ^.John Hamrick, prominent independent exhibitor of the Pacific Northwest. In each of his delineations, Mr. Hamrick has presented a phase of theatre operation in a constructive and understanding manner. If you have missed this series dig through your files for back issues of the Herald. Skinnin’ ’em Good By John Hamrick Desire, constant desire for the better things in life, for social position, for financial gain, and all of that, is wonderful; for we never get anywhere any time without wanting, and the next step is to go out and get it. But when we have to murder or steal or put someone else out of business and ruin them financially just to get the chance to make a living — well, I’m thinking that’s bad business. A^HAT a wonderful life this would be * if the fellow who toiled night and day to dish out equity to his fellow men were assured equity in return by his fellow men as a reward for giving equity. I sometimes feel that criminals are born overnight because equity failed to come their way. This brain of ours works havoc when it gets to working on the old injustice thing. Wars, revolutions from one end of the world to the other come for no other reason than because someone failed to keep faith. I could reach up into the air and grab enough denunciative expressions to fill a book on unfair, unscrupulous dealings by some film exchanges. It isn’t whether they meant to murder; the fact of the matter is they did commit murder regardless of their intentions. This evening as I write I turn the pages back almost two years and I find written indelibly on my mind a real murder committed cold-bloodedly and without cause or provocation. The victim was myself, and the murderer’s name I will withhold from this story and simply refer to a very upin-the-world film company by, say, the name of “Must Get Theirs.” And the picture we’ll call “Skinnin’ ’em Good.” + * Now, I was using all the product of this Must Get Theirs film company, and the general manager as well as the local branch manager caused me to feel that I had the absolute, positive first chance at this big “Skinnin’ ’em Good” picture. I had the first chance to get it, and the only assurance I had which led me to believe I would get it was words so put together in sentences that a child could understand. The only thing— they didn’t go before a notarypublic or use the Bible to rest one of their hands on while the other went up in the air. Now, that’s that. Quite understandable. As time went on and this Big One was ready for the dear public I kept the wires busy between here and the New York office so no one could say I was asleep on the job. I received wires back like this: “We will wire you next Tuesday our best proposition your three towns on ‘Skinnin’ ’em Good.’ ” Tuesday came and no wire, so I wired • again. My answer came and it was: “Our general manager now in Los Angeles will go direct to Seattle to quote you in person our best proposition. Regards.” The general manager came — landed here on Tuesday; so about noon or a little after he called me on the phone and Little Willie hot-footed it fast over to see him. “Hello. John.” he said. “I came all the JOHN HAMRICK, prominent independent exhibitor of the Pacihc Northwest who has written especially for the “Herald,” a series of business articles, of which this is the last. The Blue Mouse theatres in Seattle, Tacoma and Portland, are the properties of Mr. Hamrick. way from Los Angeles to keep my word with you and give you first chance on ‘Skinnin’ ’em Good.’ But, John, the price may scare you.” Now, for the benefit of my readers, it will be well to tell you I had been losing so consistently on this Must Get Theirs product that I was in a rather bad financial position and really needed a real live one to replenish funds at the bank so I could continue to keep open, so I could continue to be a competitor so this Must Get Theirs film company could continue to get theirs. For it takes competition to make film prices soar to the sky. What I needed right now was for Mr. General Manager to say, “John, you haven’t done so well on these lemons, and here is one you can break even on. It is a sure-fire winner. We will play it on a percentage basis and we will get ours that way and you will gets yours because the public sure falls for ‘Skinnin’ 'em Good.’ ” But. it was like the little boy who ran into the house and said, “Mamma, I put’ near got a piece of cake. I was next door and Mrs. Smith had a great big cake on the table alongside a loaf of bread. But she cut bread.” Mr. General Manager cut bread, for he said, “John, the price for your three Blue Mouse theatres is $28,500. It will have to be cash at signing of contract, and it is now 2 p. m. I have to leave town tomorrow afternoon, so you see, John, all you have to do to get the picture is raise $28,500 by tomorrow. So get busy.” I got busy. I went outside the building for air. I staggered round like in a daze. 1 thought war. I thought revolution. I thought I needed this picture more than anything else on earth. I could see myself going broke without it — and how could I ever pay such a price? Where would the money come from? I went down to talk to my banker. By the way, I only banked with this banker. I didn’t borrow. At this particular time I didn’t feel I had a right to ask any help from anyone. But I talked to him, anyhow. He said, “My God, John, don’t you know there are mighty few rich men who can raise that much money in twenty-four hours.” I said, “Yes, I realize all of that, but you see, I had my ultimatum from the powers that be.” I went home that night with one determination — I must sleep on this and start out bright and early the next morning. The morning of the day of execution I arose early, as I believe all men do on execution day. A bright idea came. There was one man in town, quite wealthy, who had always taken a great interest in me and had led me to believe he thought I was sincere and absolutely okay. He had watched me overcome what seemed unsurmountable obstacles and I suppose had taken this interest in me because I did have barrels of nerve, enthusiasm and plenty of fight. I really was holding this man in abeyance for something big. I wanted to wait until there could be no doubt in my mind that I had an honorable right to ask the kind of favor where he would profit equally with me. But this “Skinnin’ ’em Good” thing was on my mind, and I went straight to him with it early in the morning. I laid the whole thing before him in such a way that he at least understood what it was all about. Without any undue excitement or brass bands he quietly said, “Yes, John, I will gladly do this for you.” So we hurriedly got this $28,500 together. A certified check for Mr. General Manager, and I was so elated at my success that I believe it to be my happiest moment. It’s now noon, and I rush up to the Must Get Theirs office and find both branch and General Managers waiting for me. I said, “Boys, sing for joy. I accomplished an absolute, positive impossibility. I did the thing that seemed could not be done. Make up your contracts; I have the $28,500. I will go across the street and get a sandwich while you are making up the contracts and be back in ten minutes.’ I went across the street. I got my sandwich. I came back and things looked like a funeral. The general manager said to the branch manager, “You tell him.” The branch manager said to the general manager, “No; you tell him.” They kept this up for a while and I could see my work had all been in vain. They showed me a telegram from New York. It said: “Stop your negotiations with Hamrick. We have sold ‘Skinnin’ ’em Good’ to his competitor and have his certified check.” Me and my certified check. There we stood embarrassed together. On time. Our very soul had been crushed. We were doublecrossed, cheated — murdered. The check and John went back to the man who had confidence in us but we failed to de(Concluded on page SS)