23 July 2009


For Europeans, it must rank as one of the quintessential symbols of America. Right up there with the Statue of Liberty, the hamburger and the blue jeans. With its crude practicality, wasteful use of space, and effortless coolness, it exudes the very essence of Americana, which Europeans love, and love to hate. Last night, I made first contact with the drive-in movie theater.

When my local friends invited me to join them for "le cine-parc", it took me a fair bit of Google research to even decode to what I had just agreed. But when I found out that a trip out to the banlieue of the south shore would be in the books, I was for once thrilled. It was one of the rare warm summer nights as we pulled up to the gigantic parking lot facing industrial wasteland in Boucherville, and the last rays of sunlight shone from behind Montreal's skyline in the distance as we found our spot in front of the massive screen. The obligatory stop at the concession stop followed, and soon we sat back in our cheap communauto seats snacking on popcorn and an approximated gallon of iced tea. We tuned our radio to the frequency of the soundtrack, lowered the windows... and let the magic begin.

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