Since I lived in the inner Sunset as I completed grade school, then attended Hoover, and was almost thru Lowell before we moved further out (outter?), my Saturday movie afternoons were spent at the long gone Irving Theatre. When we went swimming instead, it was at the then new Rossi Pool.
When I was a teenager, I was expected do my share of household chores, beyond cleaning up my room and doing my own laundry, and some yard work as well. If I planned correctly, I still had time to go to the Irving, or Rossi, or ice skate on 48 Avenue, or roller skate next to Playland. I remember all the free stuff at G.G. Park, which was a short walk from home. (The property tax revolt added mega$$$$ to what had been reasonable entrance charges instituted around 1965 or 1970, not sure of the exact start date.)
If I didn't like what the Irving was showing, and it was raining, or my allowance hadn't lasted long enough, there always was the Sunset Library on Irving and 18 Avenue--first the well stocked childrens' room down in the basement, later the endless choices from the Adults' shelves on the main floor.
There were several walks up the hills, which led to wonderful views, if free exercise appealed, once I was into my teens and considered old enough to wander a couple of miles from home by myself.
I was a Girl Scout, and sometimes we gathered on Saturday morning to walk to G.G. Park, or be driven to other parks further away. We learned to mark trails (can't say that did me any future good), cook on a coffee can stove (supposed to keep us fed after The Godless Russians bombed the area and destroyed PG&E), and other vital skills in order to complete badge requirements. Saturdays were also good days to peddle my scout cookies, and later accompany my much younger sister as she peddled her Camp Fire mints.
A bunch of kids of all ages lived up and down my street, and we could ride bikes, play games, and fritter away hour after hour. We played in each others' yards, on the sidewalk, and in the middle of the street. We made sure we didn't ever get run over, because if we died our parents would kill us.
We girls sometimes baked cakes, discussed what was in the latest movie magazines, gossiped about the cutest boys we liked best as well as about each other.
Who could ever be bored on Saturday? There was always something to do.
Saturday, for a girl in the 1950s ended with scalp stabbings as bobby pins were placed in heads turned toward Lawrence Welk.