Ah, the drive-in. How well I remember my older sister hanging that enormous metal speaker box on her window, then starting to drive away with it still attached. I remember how the windshield would fog up, requring a restart of the car's engine to clear it, and how the fog would roll in waves across the drive-in, obscuring the screen from view, and how the heavens would open and let down a torrent of rain just as we were going to the concession stand. Not to be forgotten are the assholes in other cars who left their lights on, blew their horns, or acted like niggers. I remember watching *20,000 Leagues Under the Sea* from the back seat of the family car, and just as the giant squid came on, the fog rolled in so thick that I could not see the squid. I may be one of the few people in the world who has watched *20,000 Leagues Under the Sea* from start to finish without ever seeing the giant squid. How I miss the drive-in. Such memories.