Drive Ins
We need to bring back drive-ins. I can't think of anything I miss more from my childhood. I went to my first drive-in when I was really young...maybe four. My babysitter took me in her car with a friend and I got to sit in my pyjammas in thebackseat window. There was popcorn and candy and I got to stay out reaaaaaaaaaally late. Best babysitter ever.
I also think that a lack of drive-ins has left a gaping hole in the teen years of everyone in my generation. I was lucky enough to live in a town that this delight of popculture still thrived (at least for a while). The lives of so many of my friends are tragically devoid of even that small wonder.
What, exactly, makes the drive in so much better than any other movie or even at large popculture experience? I can't really put my finger on it. Something about being publicly private, voyeuristic where everyone can see you, taking part in something communal without actually coming into contact with those around you. It's very surreal to be able to know that you are appart of something like that without actually being confronted by the other individuals involved.
There's also the pleasure that comes from being in cars with people. Now, I know that many of you, if you drive, probably hate it. I don't blame you...seems like it could get pretty stressful at times and there is a whole new dimension of responsibility that comes from driving that I have yet to really care to add to my already large list of things that make me an adult. But I have always loved being in cars. When I was a baby my father would drive me around to put me to sleep. Contrary to the sentiments of my other family members, the 14 hour drive from Smithers to Vancouver filled me with excitement year after year. And I don't know if I have better memories with either my last boyfriend or with my last roomate than when we were in cars together for long (and sometimes short) periods of time.
Being in stationary cars is even better. Let's count the hours between us that we have sat in someone else's car after an evening out, just talking. Or not talking. It's a magical solitary space that only the people you know best tend to be in with you. I also think it's a tragedy to north american bourgeious teenage culture that I never got to make out with someone at the drive in. And chances are, neither did you.
I also think that a lack of drive-ins has left a gaping hole in the teen years of everyone in my generation. I was lucky enough to live in a town that this delight of popculture still thrived (at least for a while). The lives of so many of my friends are tragically devoid of even that small wonder.
What, exactly, makes the drive in so much better than any other movie or even at large popculture experience? I can't really put my finger on it. Something about being publicly private, voyeuristic where everyone can see you, taking part in something communal without actually coming into contact with those around you. It's very surreal to be able to know that you are appart of something like that without actually being confronted by the other individuals involved.
There's also the pleasure that comes from being in cars with people. Now, I know that many of you, if you drive, probably hate it. I don't blame you...seems like it could get pretty stressful at times and there is a whole new dimension of responsibility that comes from driving that I have yet to really care to add to my already large list of things that make me an adult. But I have always loved being in cars. When I was a baby my father would drive me around to put me to sleep. Contrary to the sentiments of my other family members, the 14 hour drive from Smithers to Vancouver filled me with excitement year after year. And I don't know if I have better memories with either my last boyfriend or with my last roomate than when we were in cars together for long (and sometimes short) periods of time.
Being in stationary cars is even better. Let's count the hours between us that we have sat in someone else's car after an evening out, just talking. Or not talking. It's a magical solitary space that only the people you know best tend to be in with you. I also think it's a tragedy to north american bourgeious teenage culture that I never got to make out with someone at the drive in. And chances are, neither did you.