Bruce Lear lives in Sioux City and has been connected to Iowa’s public schools for 38 years. He taught for eleven years and represented educators as an Iowa State Education Association regional director for 27 years until retiring. He can be reached at BruceLear2419@gmail.com
Before malls became teen hang outs, there were drive-in theaters. In the 1970s, they attracted teens and were a place to dream about bench seat heaven with a date. After all, they were known as “passion pits.”
The crowd at the local “passion pit” didn’t really care about deep plot lines and moving themes. When you pulled into a spot with a date, you were showing your world, you were stepping out. There were always a few families, but the place was filled with teens.
Movie makers knew what their audience craved, and they fed them. You could watch three movies in one night, and they were the weirdest, wildest horror films ever made.
The newspaper and radio ads sounded like a carnival barker at the fair. They’d boldly announce a registered nurse would be on duty in case watchers fainted from the horror. Not to be outdone, another theater across town promised an ambulance team available to resuscitate those who succumb. It was extreme hype. No one ever found the nurse or spotted an ambulance.
So, if drive-ins were teen magnets, why are they as rare as dial phones today?
Iowa cars get cold in winter. No matter how much a couple snuggles, they’d freeze in December through April at a drive-in theater. In the summer, If it stormed, movie special effects took on a whole new meaning. Sometimes, the speakers were about as clear as two cans attached by a string. Developers lusted after all that land for housing and stores.
Most of the movies were awful, and the hype got more extreme as the movies got worse. After a while, even naive teens saw through it, and started opting for indoor theaters where you didn’t have to walk a half mile to get popcorn, and you could still see the screen even if it was raining.
Trump’s campaign rallies remind me of those drive-ins of long ago. To keep a base entertained, he must get more and more extreme and make more outrageous claims.
That’s happening now.
When Trump came down his golden escalator and announced his foray into politics in 2015, he was a joke to the national press and established politicians of both parties. Even then, his pitch was dark and extreme. He played ominous Phantom of the Opera music as he descended. He said, “When Mexico sends its people, they’re not sending their best. […] They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists. And some, I assume, are good people.”
His rhetoric has become more extreme in 2024.
Recently, he said America is “like a garbage can for the world.” He has called his opponent “low IQ” and “mentally impaired.” He uses fascist terminology to say Americans who disagree with him are “enemies from within.” He has described undocumented immigrants as “vermin” who are “poisoning the blood of America.”
Instead of “Lock her up” chants from his rallies in 2016, Trump now claims Kamala Harris is a “sh*t Vice President,” and his MAGA minions echo the insults back.
During his October 27 rally at Madison Square Garden, an invited comedian insulted Puerto Ricans by saying “there’s literally a floating island of garbage in the middle of the ocean right now. I think it’s called Puerto Rico.” He made other crude jokes about Latinos, Jews, and Black people. Other warm-up acts called Harris the Antichrist and said “her pimp handlers will destroy our country.”
The extreme ads for drive-in-theaters vanished when they lost their audience. When America rejects Trump for the second time, his hate-filled rhetoric will eventually evaporate because he failed again.
We need a leader who feeds our optimism, not our hate. We’ll always be stronger as a united country recognizing diversity. Americans understand they may disagree, but they don’t have to be disagreeable.
Top photo of Donald Trump speaking at his rally in Madison Square Garden was first published on his campaign’s Facebook page.