Showbiz Commentary: Heidi Oringer

April 18 —, 2002 -- This is how it was going to play out: I would come into work like any other day, but this day would be strictly to goof off until the big moment.

It was to start with a stroll to the cafeteria for a coffee around 10, vacation searches on the net for a few hours, then the BIG daily meeting where I'd have my fun.

When it was my turn to give a rundown of my department's goings on, I'd clear my throat and say in a very professional manner, "We're covering the MTV Icon Awards. Look for ack (taped actuality) of Steven Tyler. We've also got a one-on-one with N' Sync's Joey Fatone discussing his new charity project, then (and the tone changes from professional to smart-ass) we're all going out to the local watering hole to get blasted cause it's too freakin' hot to sit in here with you stuffy yutzes. And by the way, I'll be charging the drinks to the company Am Ex and anyone who has a problem with that can kiss my 96-degree soaked armpits."

If I managed to get all that out without wetting myself, my boss would slam the table and exclaim, "Excuse me!" while the other managers stared in disbelief. But I'd continue, "And one more thing. I'm taking the rest of the month off. No, to hell with it … I'm taking the rest of the year off and I'm giving my staff the rest of the year off too … with pay."

It's at this point that I'd pull the little white piece of paper out of my pocket, get up on the conference table and sing, "I've got the golden ticket. I've got the golden ticket."

But none of that happened because I didn't win the $325 million lottery. Those Frozen Chicken, Chocolate Sundae, Ex-boyfriend Blues

So, it was work as usual, then home for a five-minute discussion with the neighbors on the unusual record heat in the Northeast. Then, dinner … some quasi, low caloric frozen box of rust-like colors the manufacturer decided to call chicken. And finally, television, which is either new mid-season replacements that weren't good enough to make it to the fall line up or reruns of shows I like, minus the element of surprise.

I decided I need a change. Usually this means adding something into the mix that's not good for me … either a) a call to the ex-boyfriend or b) a hot fudge sundae after dinner. But the first would end in an ugly fight and the second would result in a double chin, neither of which I need.

So, I decided to go to the movies on a work night, although there's nothing I'm dying to see. Then it dawns on me: What would make a so-so movie really terrific? Besides the obvious — which would be going to the so-so movie with Rick Springfield or Billy Campbell  it would be going to the so-so movie in a not so so-so movie theater.

I'm going to see the so-so movie at a drive-in. Or so I think. The Joy of Bringing Your Own Seat

Although this seemed like a great idea when I first had it, by the time I was done searching the Internet, it was too late.

The first crushing reality came when I found out there were no drive-in theaters left in the entire state of New Jersey. I couldn't believe it, for it was in this very state, in my very early stages, that I saw, not only my very first film, but my first film at a drive-in. It was Charlotte's Web and it still stands as one of the best memories I have and one of the finest pieces of animated celluloid ever made.

I could've driven to New York, but the state has seen a 79 percent decline in drive-in theaters since its heyday in the '60s when New York had more than 150 drive-ins in operation. There are currently 33 drive-ins left in New York and many of them lie in remote cities upstate. Several of these are open seasonally and some for special events only. Of course if I lived out West, California still has 30 drive-ins and is considered one of the Top Five Drive-In states.(I believe it's also tops for Drive Bys, too.)

Actually, four states have no drive in theaters. There's no outdoor movie viewing in Alaska, Hawaii, Louisiana and of course, New Jersey, which was actually the first home of the drive-in movie theater. This hurts even more because little Rhode Island has one drive-in left and it's a Tri-View to boot. (This means there are three different screens, which would make it a multiplex in the country's smallest state.)

For the life of me, I can't figure out why the decline in drive-in theaters. In this day and age, who wouldn't want to watch a film in their automobile? First, you don't have to worry about arriving hours early to get a comfortable seat because you're bringing your seat with you. Then, most cars now come with all the amenities of a comfortable theater. Remember When You Brought Your Own Goobers?

There are adjustable seats so you don't have to be concerned about a giraffe-necked geek blocking your view. Most cars have drink holders for your soda pop. You can rest the bucket of popcorn between the seats by the stick shift, and best of all, there's the backseat just waiting to be hopped into should the movie get boring and your movie companion get interesting. Plus, for those who love to multi-task, you can use your hands-free cell phone to conduct business, listen to the 24-hour AM news station to remain in the loop and, because you're in the car, you save time not having to worry about running OUT to the car to beat the crowds when the film is over.

Of course, there might be some people out there who love the multiplex concept, which involves a one-hour line, $10 ticket, another 20-minute line for $10 popcorn, a $5 drink and $4 Goobers (not to mention the Goober you accepted the date from, so you wouldn't have to spend the money.)

I say bring back the drive-in to our big cities or we'll all be forced to move to Rhode Island.

Heidi Oringer is director of entertainment programming at ABCNEWS Radio.