could go eat (but mostly drive around and try to pick up girls), or a place

where you could take in a movie (but mostly make out with your girlfriend).

Let's start off with the drive-ins that served food and drink. A few short

miles up the road from my neighborhood was a drive-in called Ameche's, named

after, and I believe owned by, the great Baltimore Colts player Alan Ameche.

Their slogan was 'I'll Meetcha at Ameche's'. I remember that because I still

have one of their ashtrays.

Anyhow, it was somewhat similar in appearance to the drive-ins you'd see in the

movies from that era. Though it came out a few years after that decade, a good

example is 'American Graffiti'.

I have to point out right off the bat that the younger ladies who worked at

Ameche's did not wear roller skates. The fact of the matter was that they often

spilled their food trays by simply walking with them. I imagine that with roller

skates on, the food and drink loss alone would have been astronomical, not to

mention the money paid out for injury and property damage lawsuits.

Luckily, most of the teenagers that hung out there didn't do it for the food.

Though, in all honesty, I rather enjoyed their 'Powerhouse' burger. Like most

hangouts back then, the guys were there to meet girls, and the girls were there

to meet guys.

The layout was such that, if you were fortunate enough to have a car (usually

your parent's), you could spend hours cruising around the building and it's

adjoining drive-in area.

Most of the lucky car drivers would not pull into one of the many food stalls

for one simple reason..... you had to purchase something once there. 

I remember that the unfortunate few without transportation would be relegated to

a curb that separated Ameche's from a Ken's Big Boy restaurant. There we would

stand and watch the parade of cars pass by. Occasionally you would spot a friend

driving around and, if the driver had forgotten to lock his doors, hop in with

him.

Keep in mind that this person didn't have to be a close friend or even a distant

one. I remember that on at least one occasion I hopped into the car of a

complete stranger. Desperation drives one to extremes.

I don't recall ever picking up a girl at Ameche's drive-in, which I guess

defeated the purpose of going there to begin with. I think it was because when I

did manage to secure a vehicle it usually was my father's light green 1958 Chevy

station wagon. Not a real chick magnet. But I kind of think that even the guys

driving mustangs weren't having much luck either. 

Ameche's went the way of most drive-ins of the 60's. It was still there went I

joined the Army in July of 1966, but by the time I got out in 1969 it was gone.

                              TIMONIUM DRIVE-IN THEATER

up members of the opposite sex. You'd better have one in the car with you.

Because, as any teenager back then knew, the drive-in was the one place you

could park with your boyfriend or girlfriend and not have to worry about a cop's

flashlight shining in your window.

Unlike today's vehicles, which separate the driver and passenger with a console,

the standard sized cars then had smooth vinyl seating straight across the front

of the car. It was like having a sofa behind the steering wheel.

You always wanted to remember to bring a blanket for privacy, but that was about

it. The drive-in provided the food and the entertainment.

The first thing one did after paying the small admission fee (it was

around 50 cents a person) was to secure a good parking spot. Usually it was

around the middle or the back of the lot. The second thing was to check your

speaker. They were heavy clunky boxes that would attach to your driver's side

window.

In the Timonium Drive-In, in Baltimore County, 50% of them were either missing

or not working. Not that a lot of my friends cared, but I thought the dialog

made good background noise to the mischief going on around it.

And, while we're on the subject, I'm ashamed to admit that on at least one

occasion I got interested in the movie. I think it was 'Nevada Smith'. Even

today, watching that movie on DVD, I can only enjoy it by glancing at it out of

the corner of my eye.

Our drive-in always played at least two movies, and in between the double

feature came some of the tackiest commercials ever, urging you to try the

concession's food and drink. They also had a big clock on the screen that would

tell you how much time you had before the next feature. I think that when it got

down to two minutes, it would turn red and pulsate.

Let me say this right now. In my opinion, my drive-in had some of the worst food

ever served by man. Even the mess hall grub in boot camp was better. The popcorn

was stale by weeks. The hot dogs were green. The egg rolls were hard enough to

be weapons. And the sodas were diluted and under carbonated. Yet come

intermission, everyone would flock to the concession stand.

Speaking of intermission, one particular commercial still comes to mind after

all these years. No, it wasn't the talking hot dogs or the coke and Pepsi cups

engaged in a sword fight. It was the idiotic kid that wanted a popcorn mine!

A genie appeared in front of this ten year old imbecile and told him he'd grant

him a wish. Did this kid want a million bucks? No! Did this kid want world

peace? No! What this particular boy wanted was a popcorn mine. That's right.

When faced with the prospect of wealth and prosperity, this kid chose popcorn.

Well, he got his wish; an old abandon mine filled to the brim with popcorn. I

imagine him today, middle aged, poor, and bloated from years of popcorn abuse,

wondering why he made such an unwise choice.