Memory about The Owl and the Pussycat: My folks had told me to meet them inside the movie theater, not imagining that a Streisand film (especially with that title) could be rated R. The movie theater wouldn't let me buy a ticket since I was under-age. Scared and alone, I faked a crying fit and they finally brought me inside to find my parents, since they insisted that an adult buy the ticket for me. (This was in an era when we didn't buy a ticket for a specific showing - we just bought our ticket and wandered into movie theaters at any point during a movie, watched it to the end, and then just watched the movie from the beginning until the point where we came in, or at least we did that in Brooklyn.)