
Stranded at the Drive-in
Dear readers,
I am writing you from week two of remote learning for my six-year-old and ten-year-old boys. I have to say: Whoever keeps saying, “It can’t get worse,” needs to be gagged. The word of the moment is “unsustainable,” though our teachers are doing an amazing job in impossible circumstances. There’s no one to blame here, but my youngest, Joe, can’t read and has the attention span of a gnat. On multiple occasions, I’ve locked myself in the bathroom, turned on the shower, and cried. And I’ve had help—my best friend, Lindsey, has graciously offered to take on Joe’s schooling once a week. The relief was not only the break, but also being able to make eye contact with another person and mouth, “Isn’t this nuts?” Her eyes said it all: Oh. My. God.
Near the end of our first week, I heard that there would be a drive-in theater at the Spokane County Fair and Expo Center parking lot. Desperate to have something good to show for the week, I purchased a ticket for the Saturday movie, Guardians of the Galaxy.
I remember my parents taking my siblings and I to a drive-in. I saw Casper, but fell asleep fifteen minutes into Major Payne. Isn’t that the romantic idea of the drive-in? A double feature of second-run movies, and as the children drift off, family night transitions to date night. What I remember most is perhaps inherent in all drive-ins: feeling outside and inside in simultaneity, safe and free.
I don’t remember the particulars of the drive-in. Luckily, photographs are lovely crutches for memory. We were at Wellfleet Drive-in Theatre, in Wellfleet, Massachusetts. Currently, there are only 321 permanent drive-ins remaining in the U.S., and Wellfleet happens to be one of them.
Spokane hasn’t had a permanent drive-in since 1994, when North Cedar Drive-In screened its last show. Unless we had traveled a considerable distance to visit one of the few remaining drive-ins, the chances that my children would ever have experienced one were remote. Yet, in a confluence of unlikely disasters that we call 2020, a drive-in appeared in Spokane: a pavement oasis.
Lindsey decided she would come along, which gave the evening an air of excitement for the boys, who love their honorary aunt, a person they can count on to giggle at their potty humor while I cast stern looks. Aunt Lindsey is much cooler than Mom. However, the concept of a drive-in was something they couldn’t quite wrap their heads around, so I just told them they would understand once we were there. We loaded the car with a variety of snacks—another selling point—and set off.
In retrospect, should I have fed my children Indian food for dinner that night? Perhaps not. There was a lot of rolling down of windows, and since Robby was sitting in the driver’s seat, he started playing God with the child locks. The situation was ridiculous, and we laughed until our faces hurt.
I probably don’t need to tell you the drive-in is not an ideal viewing experience—I didn’t even watch most of the movie. Going to the drive-in wasn’t a return to normalcy, but instead a silver lining in this weird world we’re living through. For a night, it didn’t feel like living through, just living.
Halfway through the show, Joe needed to go to the bathroom, and we made the trek to the porta-potties. When we were returning, Joe was anxious that we would not find our car. I forget sometimes what it’s like to be young and have series of concrete worries: getting lost, falling, being in the dark. I told him we would find the car because one of my jobs is to be that voice, even when I’m not actually sure. When he spotted our car, I watched him relax. He was actually joyful. He pointed. “There it is!”
I noticed the drive-in was showing Grease on Sunday; I felt a bittersweet pang. Not too long ago, but what feels like centuries ago, my group went to the Garland Theater to see “Grease.” This is in every way a compliment, but I think the Garland might be Spokane’s closest approximate to a drive-in—it’s an anachronism.
One of our friends had never seen the movie before, which was mind-boggling, and we wanted the experience of watching someone watch Grease for the first time. He asked a lot of excellent questions, such as “These are supposed to be high schoolers?” and “Isn’t this a little…icky?” but still seemed to get in the general spirit. The Garland didn’t disappoint that night. With each number, the audience burst into boisterous singing and dancing. I had been going through a tough time, but what stands out to me is that night, feeling safe and free.
I would love to hear about your drive-in memories, remote learning worries, or anything else. Please feel free to reach out on social media, email, or best yet, send me a letter.
Sincerely yours,
Megan Louise
157 S. Howard, Suite #603
Spokane, WA 99201
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