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"My Drive-In
Memories" I grew up in Houston, Texas, which was blessed with many drive-in theatres. My earliest memories of a drive-in experience were generated at The McLendon Tri-plex (1971-1996). I remember the distinct sounds; the crunching gravel, the tires and car engines. Oh the smells! Popcorn, hotdogs, and the sweet smell of a new candy box/wrapper opened in the backseat of a car. Driving to and from the McLendon was a thrill in itself, the anticipation, and the excitement as we first saw the neon crest over the top of the hill as we approached. For the same crazy reason that memories are unexplainable sometimes, the Barry Manilow song Looks Like We Made It, always reminds me of driving to the drive-in. I know, I know, but hey what can I say? It must’ve been playing on the radio one particular time and it just locked itself in there. The McLendon Triple had colored cones with lights inside to guide you to the ticket booth. I loved the multi-colored cones and the magic glow they gave to everything. The coming attraction previews were great but the Intermission countdown was what my bother and I really loved. Better than the movie. Grainy and scratchy, even back then, the garish stills punctuated by a jaunty theme that we used to hum all the time. It was our official signature going to the Drive–in theme, reeking of majesty and fun. I can dimly recall the first car that my family used to take to the drive-in, a ______________, but the real drive in car was the station wagon! Oh man, that was a car! I can remember with utmost clarity, watching The 7Th Voyage of Sinbad at the McLendon Triple. It must have been a revival showing as this would have been in the 1970’s. We arrived late (as always) and missed the first part of the film. I have no idea what the second feature was but I remember the sheer joy of our father agreeing to stay on for the replaying of 7th Voyage! Oh man, that Cyclops scared the yabbers outta me, and there was nothing cooler than that skeleton, wielding that saber in the control of Sakura the evil wizard. Best of all, during the opening credits of The 7th Voyage of Sinbad I remember sitting on my mother’s lap and her bouncing me up and down to the tune. I was soooo excited. Harryhausen’s beasts on the big screen were just the coolest for a kid. Other films seen at the McLendon included Godzilla Vs. Megalon, War Gods of the Deep, Legend of the Wolfwoman doubled with Kingdom of the Spiders, The Devil’s Rain, At the Earth’s Core, Food of the Gods, War of the Gargantuas, Eat My Dust, Inframan, Bugs, Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, Blazing Saddles, Saturday Night Fever, the Billy Crystal sex comedy Rabbit Test and the infamous Fritz the Cat. For some reason, my father thought it was a children’s cartoon and packed up the entire family (myself, my mom, my older brother, and my Greek grandmother ,HIS MOTHER, my Ya-Ya) and we watched this very explicit cartoon. We actually stayed through and I remember my mom covering my eyes throughout. My father apologized profusely then just laughed and enjoyed the show. The concession stand was a red and white striped building in the center of the three lots. As I recall it was a serve it yourself cafeteria-style concession stand, with cardboard trays to help carry your food back to the car. As we stocked up, I always loved looking at the posters that adorned the walls. Usually the garish horror movie poster art would always draw me in. The poster for Audrey Rose really creeped me out as did the posters for Mother’s Day, The Warriors and Tourist Trap. But the biggest scare was yet to come… The year was 1980 and I saw Friday the 13th at The McLendon Triple. My cousin Conrad and I were sitting on the hood of the station wagon, shivering in the night with blankets pulled up around us, while Pamela Voorhees murdered teenagers in a wild bloodlust. I recall being relieved as the police cars drove up in broad daylight to rescue Alice (Adrienne King) and finally relaxing on the hood of the wagon. When Jason Voorhees made his first appearance, I (and everyone else at The McLendon) jumped and screamed. The giddy happiness that followed as walked around the car, shaken, dazed and smiling is a memory I cherish. Thanks Jason! I stopped going to the McLendon in the mid 1980’s. There was a neighborhood hardtop theatre where I got my horror fixes in double and sometimes triple feature doses. (Zombie, Blood Beach, Halloween II and Friday the 13th Part 2) The Northshore Cinema became my new haunt for my horror movie obsession. For a while it seemed that drive-ins were no longer even safe to go to and my parents stopped taking us. Rumors of drug use, shootings, stabbings, robbery and gang attacks were just some of the reasons to stay away from my old drive-in. Drive-ins still cropped up from time to time in my life. I attended St. Pius the V Catholic School in Pasadena, Texas and ironically enough, nearby was the infamous Red Bluff Drive In. Infamous because it was an X-rated drive-in theatre and was that way for as long as I can remember. I remember riding in the back seat (of the same station wagon) and passing the Red Bluff at night. The fence around it was high, but if I strained my eyes through the slots where the fence connected, I could see flesh. Nothing distinctive or identifiable, but just the color…. flesh. Then in the year 1982, a new massive Drive-In mecca opened in Houston. The I-45 Drive In (1982-1996). Brand New, 8 screens, a capacity of 3500 cars, and state of the art stereo sound from your radio!! It was the greatest, most gaudy, beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I was 13 years old and the drive-in was back!! Everything seemed different but remarkably the same. In the 1980’s the music, the fashions, and look had become something altogether slick and the drive-in, THIS drive-in was just as ‘modern’ We went to I-45 Drive-In quite often and eventually, when my older brother was old enough to drive, we would go by ourselves. We doubled dated at the I-45 and we also went with carloads of friends. I took two different girls to enjoy movies under the stars and both of them allowed me to plumb the mysteries inside their skirts and blouses. I had my first true sexual experiences at The I-45 Drive In, and my first REAL kiss was also at that big, beautiful, magical place. Other than the details of what went on inside the car, memories of the I-45 Drive in are strangely more fuzzy and distant than the McLendon Triple memories. I remember watching Evil Dead II: Dead By Dawn at the I-45 with a carload of friends from high school. One of my best friends, Keith, was terrified of the film. He screamed like a girl as poor Ash battled for his life and his soul. When the eyeball flew across the room and landed in the mouth of a screaming girl, Keith flung open the car door and started high-tailing it to the concession stand. “Oh hell no! Uh-uh, no no no no”, he said as he fled to the relative safety of the concession building. We all chased him down and brought him back (under protest) to the car. The I-45 Drive In was an amazing piece of work. It seemed glittery and slick…shiny and new…and the concession stand was stocked full. There was a McDonalds’ right next door to the drive-in and we would always stop there first to stock up on fries and burgers. The line of cars leading into the drive in would always detour through the drive-through at the McDonalds’ first then arch around and enter the drive-in. In retrospect, I suppose if we (and everyone else) had patronized the drive-in concession stand instead of bringing in food, things might have turned out differently for the I-45. Yes, it’s gone now. I believe that a block of office buildings stand where it used to be. As for my beloved McLendon, it is a field, with a dilapidated old concession stand in the center. Overgrown with weeds and brush, and with all three screens long gone, the McLendon is a graveyard. Drive-In theatres in Houston? No, not anymore. I live in Austin now with my wife and my son. Within a reasonable driving distance from Austin are two (count ‘em two) drive-in movie theatres. One in San Antonio, The Mission IV Drive In, recently renovated and looking better than ever…and in Gatesville, The Last Drive-In Picture Show, a small one-screener with an indoor theater and putt-putt golf course attached. We go as often as we can, but not as often as we should. Finally, no drive-in memories from Texas would be complete without a mention of Joe Bob Briggs. Joe Bob Briggs (John Bloom) began writing a review column for the Dallas Times Herald in the 1980’s and his pen-character Joe Bob, was the one and only Drive-In Movie Critic from Grapevine, Texas. John Bloom is a highly intelligent man who obviously understands the great appeal of the drive-in film. As Joe Bob, he would review movies, but only drive-in films. He often criticized movies that were too intelligent (hard-top nonsense) or had too much plot to get in the way of the action. He applauded films like The Grim Reaper, and Evil Dead, and rated his movies with his own unique system, the three B’s (Blood, Breasts, and Beasts). Women’s right groups and far right-wing religious organizations constantly attacked Joe Bob’s column. It wasn’t long before the High sheriffs of the Dallas Slimes Herald bowed to the pressure and cancelled his column due to offensive subject matter. Joe Bob Briggs had, by that time, amassed quite a following and was syndicated throughout the country. John Bloom released a collection of his columns in books, Joe Bob Goes to the Drive In and Joe Bob Goes back to the Drive In. He became an on-screen host for The Movie Channel’s Drive-In Theatre and later as the host for TNT’s Monstervision. Since then has become a fixture in genre magazines and columns. He still writes Joe Bob goes to the Drive In columns and still reviews movies that are best seen in one place…under the big night sky. In conclusion, I would like to quote The Popcorn King himself, Joe Bob Briggs, and recite his ‘DRIVE –IN OATH’ (take off your hats and say it with me folks). We are Drive-In Mutants We are not like others. We are sick, we are twisted. We believe in Blood, Breasts, and Beasts We believe in Kung-Fu City. If Life had a vomit meter, we’d be off the scale As long as one single drive-in remains on the planet earth We will party like jungle animals We will boogie ‘til we puke Heads will roll And the drive-in will never
die! Rest in Peace |
