DRIVE-INS were never about the movies.
It was about the cars.
In fact, cars were an essential part of the drive-in experience, especially for the men.
The drive-in was where you showed off your new and sensible Valiant Regal sedan if you were a family man or, if in your twenties, your new Datsun SSS and the sexy goose it landed you.
And if you were driving something hot, you wanted to make a bit of a grand entry with a little wheel spin.
That’s how it was…
Backseat baby?
My first kiss was on the backseat of a Toyota Cressida.
It was just a kiss because her older brother was sitting in the driver seat munching popcorn.
When I turned 18 and got my driver’s licence, there was no more need for a chauffeur and Friday nights I would ask my dad for his car to take my girlfriend to the drive-in.
And Saturday night again…
By then there wa a lot more happening on the backseat than just kissing and today I can’t recall even one movie’s title – the windows having been too fogged up to see through.
When I eventually bought my own ride I still borrowed dad’s car because my first car was a beach buggy and its rear was way too cramped to accommodate any sort of backseat frolics – except if one of you was a contortionist. Although
I would have like it, I never had the luck to date a contortionist.
Still, dad’s Toyota Corolla was a tight fit and footmarks on the roof lining and rear window had to be wiped off before going home.
The heydays of drive-ins were in the 1950s and ’60s, and if you look at the size of the backseats in the Ford Fairlanes and Chevrolet Impalas of those days you can just speculate on where the designers got their inspiration from.
How many people, 40 and older, were conceived on the backseat?
Must be many and explains people in that age group’s intense love for cars.
Karma Sutra
I miss those drive-in days and also my youth, because the last time I attempted some high revving action on a backseat – in a Renault Clio – I got the most terrible cramps in my legs.
But the ability to do the backstroke in the rear is still the yardstick with which I judge interior space whenever I do a review on a new car, and let me tell you; there are a couple of SUVs on the market which can easily host the Karma Sutra Olympics.
Maybe someday the drive-in will make a comeback and car lovers can all come together again to check out one another’s rides, and have a cigarette after the movie.
But I suppose by then all cars will probably be the size of a Smart Fortwo, which defies the purpose because as I said, it was never about the movies.
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