Ya, Holland, there's an expansiveness to it, sort of like the old west itself I suppose. It's music that takes us above our troubles for some dreamy moments of possibilities and goodness. Some of it is majesterial as well, rich in emotion. People went to plush theatres to listen to plush themes.
I remember the day when there were neighbourhood theaters. You'd buy a ticket outside from a lady in a glass booth, then walk slightly upward on black-and-white mosaic tiles to brass-handled doors through more brass handled doors and there'd be plush red carpeting under your feet, huge posters of upcoming features. A ticket-taker tore your ticket in half and if you came late, I remember nuns and other ladies in skirts wearing white gloves and carrying flashlights would usher you down to a vacant seat. The movie would play pretty much continuously and you'd stay for it to start up all over again for the parts you missed and you'd say, "This is where we came in!" and probably stay to the end again if it was a good one.
para . . . .