***Growing Up Absurd In The 1950s-
Be-Bop The Adventure Car Hop
A YouTube film
clip of Johnny Ace performing his classic Pledging My Love.
From The Pen Of Frank Jackman
No question if you were alive in the
1950s in America, and maybe in other countries too for all I know but I think
that this is truly an American phenomenon, the golden age of the automobile
met the golden age of al fresco dining, okay, okay low end pre-Big
Mac dining. Sorry, I got carried away. Golden Age eating outdoors, well, not
really outdoors but in your Golden Age automobile at the local drive-in restaurant
(not drive through but that may have been true too). See the idea was that a young
guy, maybe a guy who was a wiz at fixing up cars and who had retro-fitted, dual
carb-fitted, low-slung wheels-fitted, amp-fitted some broken down wreak and
made it a “boss” car, like a ‘57 Chevy or Dodge or some nerdy young guy who had
two left hands and had borrowed his father’s blah-blah family car for the night
would bring his date to the drive-in restaurant and did not give a damn about
the cuisine or the ambience against sitting in that car all private and all to
munch on burgers and fries. And be seen in that “boss” car or in the case of
the father borrowed car just to be seen with his date. Be seen by the million and
one young guys, maybe guys who were also wizzes at fixing up cars and who had
also retro-fitted, dual carb-fitted, low-slung wheels-fitted, amp-fitted some
broken down wreak and made it a “boss” car, like a ‘57 Chevy or ‘59 Dodge or
some nerdy young guys who had two left hands and had borrowed their father’s
blah-blah family car for the night would bring their dates to the drive-in
restaurant and did not give a damn about the cuisine or the ambience against
sitting in those cars all private and all to munch on burgers and fries. Also
to be seen and to be placed in the high school pecking order accordingly. Or if
not in high school to be paid homage for surviving that chore, and for knowing
the ropes, knowing the signposts in the drive-in night.
Once I have put golden age automobile
and golden age dining out together all that needs to be added is that Eddie,
Eddie Connell, is out, out once again, with his ever lovin’ Ginny, Virginia
Stone, in the Clintondale 1950s be-bop night, having a little something to eat
at the Adventure Car Hop, that burgers and fries eternal teen night dining
combo (did I mention a Coke or Pepsi, if I did not then those were the standard
drinks to wash those hard-hearted burgers and those fat-saturated fries down)
after a hard night of dancing to the local rockers and afterward a bout down at
Adamsville Beach located a couple of towns over and so filled with Clintondale
and other young couple seeking some privacy from watchful town eyes, in the “submarine
race” watching night. Let’s hone in on what Eddie and Ginny are up to, okay.
“Two hamburgers, all the trimmings, two
fries, two Cokes, Sissy,” rasped half-whispering Eddie Connell to Adventure Car
Hop number one primo car hop Sissy Jordan. Eddie and Sissy had known each other
forever. Sissy had been Eddie’s girlfriend back in junior high days, back in
eight-grade at Clintondale South Junior High when he learned a thing or two
about girls, about girl charms and girl bewilderments. And Sissy had been his
instructor, although like all such early bracings with the opposite sex there
was as much misinformation and confusion as intimacy since nobody, no parent,
no teacher, and no preacher was cluing any kids in, except some lame talk about
the birds and the bees, kids’ stuff. Things, as happens all the time in teen
love, had not worked out between them. Had not worked out as well because by
ninth grade blossoming Sissy was to be found sitting in the front seat of
senior football halfback Jimmy Jenkin’s two-toned souped-up Hudson and Sissy
had no time for mere boys then. Such is life.
For those who know not of Adventure Car
Hop places or car hops here is a quick primer. The Adventure Car Hop, the only
such place in town and therefore a magnet for everybody from about twelve to
twenty-something was (now long gone and the site of a small office park) nothing but an old time drive-in restaurant
where the car hop took your order from you while you were sitting in your “boss” car. Hopefully boss
car, although the lot the night Eddie and Ginny graced the place had been filled
with dads’ borrowed cars, strictly not boss, not boss at all. Sitting with your “boss” girl (you had better
have called her that or the next week she would be somebody else’s “boss”
honey) personally. And would return to you after, well, it depended on how busy
it was, and just then right this was Adventure Car Hop busy time, with your
order on a tray which attached to your door. By the way families, parents alone
without children, or anybody else over twenty-something either gave the place a
wide berth or only went there during the day when no self-respecting young
person, with or without car or date, would be seen dead there, certainly not to
eat the food. Jesus no.
Now Sissy, a little older then than
most Clintondale car hops at twenty-two, was is really nothing but a career
waitress, a foxy one still, but a waitress which was all a car hop really was.
Except most car hops at Adventure Car Hop were "slumming” through
senior-hood at Clintondale High or freshman at some local college and were just
trying to make some extra money for this and that while being beautiful.
Because, and there was no scientific proof for this, but none was needed, at
Adventure Car Hop in the year 1959 every car hop had been a fox (that beautiful
just mentioned), a double fox on some nights, in their short shorts, tight
blouses, and funny-shaped box hats. And Sissy topped the list. Here though is
where Sissy made a wrong turn. She had let Jimmy Jenkins have his way with her
too many times, too many unprotected times and when she was a senior at
Clintondale High a few years back (and Jimmy was up at State U playing football
and having sex with a few adoring college girlfriends on the side) she had to
drop out of school to have a baby (we called it “gone to Aunt Ella’s” and once
a girl was not seen for a while someone would use that term and that was all
that was needed). But see Jimmy, caddish Jimmy, left Sissy in the lurch, would
not marry her or provide for the child (what the hell he was a student he had
no dough even if he had done the honorable thing) and so she never went back to
finish up after that visit to Aunt Ella and had latched onto the job at
Adventure Car Hop to support her child. And thus all the signs told that career waitress was to be her fate, maybe not
at that place but probably she would wind up at some truck stop diner on the outside
of town with a too tight steam-sweated uniform, pencil in her hair, gum in her
mouth, still fending off, mostly fending off, lonesome trucker advances.
But back to the 1959 be-bop night, the
be-bop Friday or Saturday night when those car hops, those foxes, were magnets
for every guy with a car, a fathers’ car or not but without girls hoping
against hope for a moment with one said car hop. And for guys with girls who were
looking to show off their girls, foxier even than the car hops if that was
possible and it usually wasn’t. Although under any conditions do not let them
know that. More importantly, to show off their “boss cars.” And playing,
playing loudly for all within one hundred yards to hear, their souped-up car
radio complexes, turned nightly in rock heaven’s WJDA, the radio station choice
of everyone under the age of thirty.
Right now on Eddie's super-duplex
speaker combo The Dell-Vikings are singing their hit, Black Slacks and
some walkers are crooning along to the tune. Yes, if you can believe this, some
guys and girls, some lame guys and girls, actually walked to the Adventure Car
Hop to grab something to eat after the Clintondale Majestic Theater let out.
They, of course, ate at the thoughtfully provided picnic tables although their
orders were still taken by Sissy’s brigade. Nicely served just like real
customers with nighttime social standing, although they were still nothing but
lamos in the night social order.
But, getting back to Eddie and Ginny,
see Sissy knows something that you and I don’t know just by the way Eddie
placed his order as The Falcon’s doo wop serenade, Your So Fine, blared
away from his radio in the fading night. Sissy knows because, being a fox she
has had plenty of experience (including with Eddie in the days, the junior high
days when she and Eddie were nothing but lamo car-less walkers) that Eddie and
Ginny (who was nothing but a stick when Eddie and she were an item, a stick
being a girl, a twelve or thirteen year old junior high school girl with no
shape, unlike say Sissy who did have a shape, although no question, no question
even to Sissy Ginny has a shape now, not as good as hers but a shape good enough
to keep Eddie snagged) have been "doing it” after spending the early part of the evening at the
Surf, the local rock dance hall for those over twenty-one (and where liquor is
served). The tip-off: Eddie’s request for all the trimmings on his hamburgers.
All the trimmings in this case being mustard, ketchup, pickles, lettuce, and
here is the clincher, onions. Yes, Eddie and Ginny are done with love’s chores
for the evening and can now revert to primal culinary needs without rancor, or
concern.
Sissy had to laugh at how ritualized
(although she would never use such a word herself to describe what was going
on) the teen night life was in
Clintondale (and really just slightly older set like the clients of the Surf
rock club, Eddie and Ginny, who learned the ropes at Adventure Car Hop way back
when). If a couple came early, say eight o’clock, they never ordered onions, no
way, the night still held too much promise. The walkers, well, the walkers you
couldn’t tell, especially the young walkers like she and Eddie in the old days,
but usually they didn’t have enough sense to say “no onions.” And then there
were the Eddies and Ginnys floating in around two, or three in the morning, “done”
(and you know what done is now), starving, maybe a little drunk and ready to
devour Benny’s (the owner of Adventure) cardboard hamburgers, deep-fried,
fat-saturated French fries, and diluted soda (known locally as tonic, go
figure) as long as those burgers had onions, many onions on them. And as we
turn off this scene to the strains of Johnny Ace crooning Pledging My Love
on Eddie’s car radio competing just now with a car further over with The
Elegants’ Little Star Sissy has just place the tray on Eddie’s side of
the car and has brought his order and placed it on the tray, with all the
trimmings.
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