summer

Owen Sound Twin Drive-in Theatre

I just found out that the Twin Drive-in Theatre, just outside of Owen Sound, is being torn down. My heart sunk a little when I saw these words, that was immediately followed by a torrent of childhood memories. Good memories. Flushed with nostalgia, I began to reminisce about hot summer nights, curled up in the back seat of the white, Pontiac station wagon, dressed in our PJs. Anticipating dusk so the movie would begin.

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In the summer and even early fall, we spent many Saturday nights at the Owen Sound Twin Drive-in Theatre. With no air conditioning at home, it was an escape from the stifling heat of the century-old, badly insulated Victorian house we lived in.  My Dad would pack up the Igloo cooler with bottles of Pop Shoppe cream soda and root beer and it would be one of the few occasions our Mom would allow us to have junk food. We grew up in a household free of it. Fresh popcorn, sugar controlled Freshie and homemade cookies were her snacks of choice for us. Occasionally, our parents would let us buy something from the concession stand.

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Before heading out for our night of movie entertainment; we were put into our pajama’s, our parents knowing we would never make it through the second movie. We tried, oh trust me, we tried.

My Dad would always try to get us there early, like many others, he wanted a prime spot.  This would mean waiting extra time for dusk and time to play in the rusting structures of the play area. How we didn’t end up with lead poison or lockjaw still confounds me. Running wild with hoards of other children, our parents hoped we’d exhaust ourselves so they’d be allowed enough peace and quiet to hear the voices through the vintage speaker mounted on the driver’s side window.

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Since 1950 and when the Owen Sound Twin Drive-in Theatre first opened up, the long line-up of cars would cruise in, set-up the speaker in their window and then make their way to the concession stand. That drive-in saw many cars filled with young lovers, families with kids in PJs, teenagers excited that they could test their new driver’s license and freedom and older couples enjoying a date night. When I think of drive-in theatres, I often imagine the voice of Wolfman Jack drifting from the radio, in sync with the crunching sounds of popcorn and the release of metal pop bottle lids.  We usually parked close to the concession stand, allowing our car to be filled with the smells of food cooking and the sounds of beverages being poured into wax-lined paper cups.
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One memory that has always stuck with me is that of being scared shitless to go to the bathroom that was attached to the concession stand. It was mere feet away. One of the movies from a double feature that particular evening was The Car. In this movie, the car was possessed and was running people down and starred the very handsome James Brolin. I was so scared of this evil vehicle that I was convinced that it was in the drive-in. I remember begging my mother to take me to the washroom. She was frustrated by this since I’ve never been scared to go on my own before that night. Oh, the 1970s. A time when you’d let your young child wander off to a public washroom all on their own.

It’s sad that drive-in’s and bowling alleys are dying away. They both have filled my heart with so many wonderful memories and I often wonder what could be done to keep them open and popular for today’s society. Would adding fun extras such as live music, trivia contests or some other events to entertain the masses, while they wait for the sun to go down, be enough?  I’m afraid it won’t be. Let’s hold onto those wonderful memories and continue to tell others our stories of hot, humid summer nights at a double feature at your local drive-theatre.
Please share your stories in the comments below.
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Redheads Writing in Cafes except when they are on the road again

I’m on the road again and now saying that, the ‘on the road again song is stuck in my head. Why do I do this to myself? I’m on my way back to Toronto, back to my fella and my own bed. Don’t get me wrong here, I will miss my parents. I am thankful that as a full-time writer, I could be there for my Mom to help her after her surgery. What I won’t miss, is the futon bed/couch torture device. I have the sore hips and bruises to prove it.

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The bus from Owen Sound to Toronto leaves hella early. We were up at 6 am, to ensure I was packed, fed and to the bus by 7:30. I’m not a morning person, this was and always is a struggle. Yesterday my Mom kept apologizing that we didn’t get to do more things while I was there. I reminded her that I wasn’t up there for a vacation, I was there to look after her. Why must parents feel bad when we look after them? Being there was just like being a kid, my parents couldn’t remember which child I was and my Dad kept mixing Flash and me up. I know I have puppy-dog eyes, but I don’t think my ears are quite that floppy.

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One of the advantages of being at my parents was the lack of distractions the city has. I was able to get a lot more writing and research done. I am hoping to keep up the same pace with I return home. I’m incredibly disciplined and work hard, however, it is easy to procrastinate when you live in a really amazing neighbourhood and have incredibly interesting and fun friends. Being at my parents and my hometown also gave me incredible amounts of inspiration for my novel and reminders as to why ghost stories will always be my favourite genre.

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I’m hoping we get a chance to head back up to my parents again at some point this summer. I didn’t get a chance to hang out near the water this time around but would love to find an opportunity to sit by the water and write. Living near High Park, I can do this whenever I like. Grenadier Pond is a stunning body of water and I always feel inspired when I am near it. I’m sure it has it’s own ghost stories to tell. We are also very close to Lake Ontario and can walk to it in about thirty minutes.  I’m never that far away from water.

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Today is also the first day of summer and the longest day of the year. Fortunately, it is also sunny (enjoy it, it’s raining again tomorrow). Unfortunately, I will be spending the first half of the day on the bus. I would normally go out today and enjoy the extra daylight, but I am likely going to spend it relaxing, on the couch with my fella, finishing off season two of Twin Peaks (refresher for me, newish for him) before we start watching season three. I’ve made it this far without seeing spoilers. I’ve also been spending less time on the book of faces these days, that could explain why. It’s good for the soul to take Facebook vacations. Tonight might also be a good time to watch Jaws again. Always a fun summer movie favourite.

I’m signing off, until next time…. SHARK!

Redheads Writing in Cafes Unless It’s a Pub

Welcome to this week’s edition of Redheads writing in cafes, except, it was a bar patio and I had cider instead of coffee. For those of you who are judging me right now…

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Many often joke that Canada has two seasons. Winter and patio season but, let’s be honest with ourselves here for a moment, the last couple winters we’ve had, haven’t been all that terrible. Compared to the year of the ice storm, they have been comparatively mild. Complain? We shouldn’t be, but as per standard, we will. It’s now mid-May and as I look around, I see trees filling out, and quite quickly over the last few days, happy people out on leisurely walks, people on bikes whizzing by, skateboarders, motorcycles and people browsing through the various tiny libraries, that are popping up on a steady basis, in my hood. Spring has sprung!

Yesterday and again today, we have been treated to a sneak peek of summer weather. Hot, humid, the threat of a thunderstorm and patios filled to the brim. Yesterday, I took advantage of such and found myself sitting on a patio in the Annex. Paupers Pub is probably one of the most popular patios in the Bloor/Bathurst area, especially now with all of the bars and restaurants of Mirvish Village disappearing due to the upcoming condo, erm…. apartment complex development. Paupers has always been a patio favourite of mine. The staff is a mix of Paupers veterans to university students looking for a quick cashflow to pay the rent.

The afternoon started with a coffee and vegan doughnut at Bloomers with our very own Life With More Cowbell, Cate McKim. Once we satiated our need for caffeine and a sugary, fried delightful treat, we made our way to The Annex. I’m talking about the doughnut you pervs…. Anywhoo… After parting ways, I decided to continue my stroll along Bloor and take the scenic route to my next destination, Paupers patio, where I was planning to do some writing.

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During my wander along Bloor, two odd things happened. I walked into BMV and didn’t buy anything.  I know, weird.  Then…. Then there was the guy wearing the Obama Halloween mask. Living in Toronto, I have seen some very…. odd things. A lot of odd things in fact. Normally I wouldn’t be fazed by the guy in the Obama mask, if it wasn’t for the fact that he passed me three times within a matter of 30 minutes and each time staring me down. I don’t think he was singling me out, I observed him doing this exact same thing to others he passed. I think a normal person may have been creeped out by the guy, I just kept thinking, “Man, that must be really hot under a Halloween mask on a day like today.” Has anyone else seen this guy before?

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I was able to get a couple solid hours of writing in before being joined by October for dinner and more drinks on the patio. I was able to do what I hope was the final edit on a short story that I am looking to submit on Monday to a literary magazine. I’ve been editing the story for two weeks now and feel it’s time to let the baby fly from the nest. I know for artists letting go of your work is hard to do. I always have a hard time with this, not because I’m worried about rejection, but because I want everything to be perfect. If you have the same issue or a solution please let me know. I’d love to hear your story as well.

Now that the weather is warmer, I am hoping to spend more time writing on patios. Sometimes with a coffee and sometimes a cider.