Drive-ins in the New Normal
Drive-ins, the New Normal
The other day I was having one of those rough times. You know. Corona virus preventing me from dining at our favorite restaurant—-even our non-favorite restaurant. A President in “debate” exhibiting all the class of an orangutan in heat at a buffet dinner at a classy establishment. Smoke from the California fires blocking the sun from my sky. As usual when I slip into these funks I retreat into the fantasy past. I say fantasy because the past is never as good in reality as it is in remembrance. I guess I was hungry the other day because I started thinking about candy I ate as a kid. Bonomo’s Turkish Taffy. This was a yellow brick of sweetness that strengthened my jaw. This must have been a boon to Turkish dentistry. I think I still have a sliver of it wedged between my molars.
Then there was Lik-m-aid. These were small wax bottles of liquefied sugar with food coloring, red, blue, green. I would bite off the top and take a swig. One shot and I was ready to take on any Communist army anywhere.
I think a pack of chocolate cigarettes cost a dime. RJ Reynolds Tobacco Company must have been overjoyed watching us kids standing on the corner puffing away until we got sick of the puffing and faced the challenge of unwrapping the chocolate and discarding the paper. Once I inadvertently left a pack on the radiator in our Bronx apartment. Mother was not happy.
My daydreaming took me to the cardboard containers of popcorn on which was squirted a quarter cup of fake butter that had been simmering for twenty five movies over two months at the drive-in. And that stream of consciousness took me to the drive-in. Ah,the drive-in.
Remember the drive-in? Sitting in the dark in your car with your date.
wrapped in the secure anonymity of your automobile watching Raymond Burr in Rodan. Drive-ins were especially attractive dating destinations for money-poor college students like me. Five dollars for the drive-in entrance fee, a king size popcorn, and a date. All I had to do was find a car. A classmate, son of a funeral director, was able to secure a hearse for the five-dollars-a-car special one weekend. We packed twelve guys in the hearse, parked it sideways and had enough collective finances to share a keg. But then suddenly drive-ins just disappeared. Gone.
And now, within a different context, they have returned, especially for testing for the covid virus. A different concept and purpose, true, but we can expand the drive-in mentality to include other services. Think about it. I just had a virtual medical appointment.
“So, Ralph. How are you feeling?”
“Good, doctor.”
“How is your blood pressure?”
“I think it is okay.”
“You don’t have an electrocardiogram monitor in your home by any chance?”
So I got to thinking. Since the pandemic will not allow us to congregate in waiting rooms, restaurants, political rallies, etc. all of which are petri dishes for contracting diseases, why can’t we use the drive-in as part of the new normal? Suppose we have drive-in museums? You drive-in, pay at the entrance, pull up to the first exhibit, experience the artistic moment, observe the timer, and move on to the next painting/sculpture/video.
Or drive-in gyms. You pull up to a designated spot, get out of the car, mount the treadmill, tread 30 minutes and move on to the next machine.
Or drive-in barber shops. Pull up to Guiseppe, he climbs in the back seat, you put on opera on the car radio, and there you are.
Or drive-in political speeches. The area can be divided by political party or by official position (senate, house of representative, president, coroner). You drive up to the candidate, they give a ten minute spiel, and you drive up to the next candidate. Think of how much of the money that goes into the campaigns could be saved and spent on some of the problems that the candidates say they are trying to fix? And think about political advertisements no longer interrupting your watching of Leave it to Beaver reruns. If you don’t like what the candidate is saying, you turn up the volume on your radio.
Or drive-in cardiologists. Pull up to a station, have the blood pressure cuff put on, hook up to the EKG machine, actually have a conversation about diet(avoid the potato chips) and exercise, and drive off.
Or drive-in dentists. You pull up to the dentist’s station, lean back and watch them work in your rear view mirror.
Or drive-in psychiatrists. Drive up to Dr. Freud, roll down the window, and tell him about the time your mother punished you for leaving a pack of chocolate cigarettes on the radiator. You can even recline way back in your driver’s seat to replicate the full experience.
And, yes, I understand there are limitations to my concept. I thought and thought and tried to figure tactics that might work, but I don’t think the drive-in strategy would work for gynecologists or urologists.
And, say, maybe we can use drive-ins to view movies, and all the cars are connected virtually so we can comment on what’s happening on the screen. Sort of like a huge Mystery Science Theater 3000. Wouldn’t that be something?
