Needless to say, I did go to the Drive-In and had a really good time. As I had feared, it was a very different thing. The architecture was the same, but the decoration was different. From the 45 minute trek which included several lengthy misdirections to the fact that I was the one doing the driving, it was different even before we got there. And when we did, the arrow of the big fluorescent sign was burnt out. The road there was the same, but the parking area itself seemed smaller somehow. The closer you are to the ground, the bigger and more wondrous the world seems. I parked roughly where we'd always parked and this was perhaps a bigger assault on my nostalgia. The vantage point was the same, but the screen was in disrepair, the right side drooping somewhat. Inside the concession stand, the several upbeat employees waiting to help you at each step of the way was replaced by an overworked cook and a bored and probably underpaid cashier. I was going to get a soda, but no one was working the drinks. The posters on the wall which had always been pristine and flat and new were old and shabby and hastily put up. If the Drive-In experience had always snared me with its roar, it only had a whimper to offer now. It was like nothing had touched it since the last time I went with my family but time and the elements and things were jumpstarted again half-heartedly upon my return. That is until the movie. Once the trailers started, picture splashed across the gigantic distant screen sound humming out from the FM band it was like no time had passed. Even as I sat behind the wheel with my friend's inane commentary coming from my right, I was five again in the back seat staring out of the space between the seats in front of me. The Drive-In's power of me cannot be diminished by time nor circumstance. As the movie wore on, I noticed far more similarities than differences; for instance no matter where you park a big ass vehicle with three foot tall bike racks will always park directly in front of you at the last minute, causing you to hastily move a few spots down to the more preferable position behind the sedan with their lights on through the first twenty minutes. The bathroom will always be crowded (if not quite overcrowded like the heyday) and unsanitary. Little annoyances that I cherish for their familiarity and friendly signs like the reassuring glow of the concession stand lights in the darkness. So it was that the car rumbled slowly across the gravel towards the exit with my of very much the mind I always have after a night at the Drive-In. With so many doors closing, it's nice to see a door still open a crack, even if only for the present.