Summer vacation 1974 and I am in Norman Oklahoma with my cousins. I am 11 years old. My older cousin has her first job, which is working the concession stand at the drive in theater. The drive in theater happens to be walking distance from my cousins house.
The youngest of my cousins who is closest to my age and I walk to the drive in theater every night, each of us with a nickel in hand. We tell the man at the ticket booth “We’re just here for a giant pickle. (we display our nickels) Movie? Oh no, we don’t have that kind of time.” He let’s us pass, and we continue our pedestrian pickle quest, the charge of admission waved.
I grew up in the city of Chicago. My parents were very strict and very protective. My siblings and I were as a result, afforded limited freedoms. I have very few typical carefree childhood memories, however summers when under the watchful eye of my aunt is when many of these memories took seed.
I remember roasting marshmallows and hot dogs, catching fireflies, and running and playing in open fields. My favorite childhood memory however is that summer of 1974.
I saw Young Frankenstein 21 times that summer, and ate 21 giant pickles.
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