Thursday, May 29, 2008

Look, It's A Car...It's A Movie...It's A Drive-In Movie!

My parents started a family tradition a few years ago called Backyard Movie Night. They hire a movie-showing company that comes to their home to play a movie. Yes, my parents do own their own DVD player, and yes, they do know how it works.

You see, this isn't just any movie-showing company. For starters, they encourage customers to schedule their movie on a warm summer night when the air is still, the sky is dark, and the stars are many. They recommend that you have lots of hot dogs and hamburgers on hand. And if you plan on making out during the movie, make sure to bring your own blanket and sit in back because there will be plenty of kids in the front row.

This year's big night will take place on June 27th, weather permitting. The movie-showing staff will show up about thirty minutes before showtime to put up a large white screen on the side of the garage. My parents will have the task of choosing the movie ahead of time, a flick that must appeal to the interests of movie lovers 3 and up. That means something along the lines of Disney's "The Wild," not to be confused with "Wild Things" which stars Denise Richards, Nev Campbell, and a swimming pool.

The kids think Backyard Movie Night is a modern invention, the result of too many years watching indoor DVDs on a couch while eating stale potato chips. But we adults know better. Backyard Movie Night takes us back to a simpler time when the best way to truly enjoy a movie was outdoors under the stars.

Growing up during the 1970s, the only way to watch a movie with Mom and Dad was in the back seat of Dad's Ford Maverick at one of Cleveland's many drive-in movie theatres. Going to the drive-in was more than just about the movies. There were the gravel-lined playgrounds that my siblings and I spent practically every moment leading up to the movie skinning our knees on. And there were the miles and miles of open space we could run around squealing like banshies as the sun was setting while many of our counterparts were at home getting ready for bed. Wasting energy wasn't a problem because the concession stand had hot dogs, chili dogs, burgers, and fries so we could refuel during the main event.

The drive-in movie experience did have its stressful moments and they usually happened at the beginning of the movie just as the opening credits were starting. We could see the frustration on Dad's face as he tried his hardest to position the car ever so carefully next to the speakers to get them to sound better. And of course there was always at least one speaker that did not work and Dad usually found it. Embarrassed, we slid down in our seats while he started the car back up and began the slow crawl ten feet over to the right or left to another speaker, hoping not to disturb the other movie-goers and run the risk of getting pelted with popcorn and slushies.

With hot dogs and pops in our laps, we were finally settled and ready for the opening movie. If we were lucky it was a kids movie, like Herbie the Love Bug, or even a cartoon. Whatever it was, I watched until I drifted off to sleep, not even the caffeine in my cola could keep me awake for the second movie. One time, however, by the almighty power of some unknown force I remained awake for the nightcap of a cinematic doubleheader. The movie was the adult classic Shampoo, starring Julie Christie and a handful of meaningless other actors. Her long, shapely legs, soft lips, and a timely case of insomnia kept me awake long enough to see my first unrated movie at the tender age of 9. Yes indeed, the drive-in movie was indirectly responsible for my first crush on an older woman I had absolutely no chance with.

I'm quite sure that filling my head with impure thoughts while viewing movies like Shampoo was not the intention of one Richard Hollingshead, the inventor of the drive-in movie theatre back in 1933. In his own backyard in Camden, New Jersey he simulated an actual movie theatre, even going so far as to see what the experience would be like in the rain by turning his water sprinkler on. He loved hanging outside in his car and he loved movies. Why not combine the two and see what happens!

The idea caught on. By the summer of 1937 Ohio opened its first drive-in called the Starlight Auto Theatre in Akron. Cleveland got its first one a year later in the vicinity of Thistledown Race Track on Northfield Road. The real boom across America took place in the ten years following WWII as the number of drive-ins climbed from 155 to over 5,000 nationwide.

But as competition from indoor theatres, Beta machines, the VCR, and currently the DVD enabled people to come in from out of the rain to watch movies, the novelty of the drive-in waned. By the 1990s for every new drive-in that opened, dozens more closed. Fifty years ago Ohio had nearly 200 drive-ins. Today there are about 40, preserved and operated by die-hard fans of the venue.

My personal favorite growing up was the Cloverleaf Drive-In, located in Valley View. Some patrons may recall this drive-in having a large clock on the back of its screen with Coke bottles for hands. I just remember that we did not have to drive very far because Grandma and Grandpa lived at the top of the hill. Even when we weren't at the drive-in, we could still get a glimpse of what was playing because the screen was so huge and could be seen from Granger, Canal, and Warner - the three main roads nearby. This fact sparked controversy from the local do-gooders who felt the youth was being corrupted whenever R-rated movies were going on and families were idling their cars out on the street waiting for the lights to change. "Elmer, the light's green." "Don't rush me darling, my favorite part is coming up!"

The Cloverleaf Drive-In closed for good back in 1984. Ironically, the owners became born-again Christians and tried showing Christian-themed films their last season of business. The idea didn't save their drive-in, but their days were numbered anyways. Nearby Garfield Mall was drawing many customers to their indoor theatre, and you could always catch a flick for a dollar at the warm and cozy Mapletown a few miles up the hill.

Clevelanders ages 40 and up can now only look back with great fondness upon the drive-in theatre as they plop another movie into their DVD player and tear open a bag of stale chips. Depending on how much gas money you've saved up, you could always take a trip out to one of the last few remaining drive-ins northeast Ohio has to offer. Chardon's Mayfield Drive-In is still open for business and is showing Iron Man as of this writing. Or you could just hire a movie-showing company and simulate the drive-in experience by hosting your own Backyard Movie Night. Just make sure to check the timer on your automatic sprinkler before the guests show up!

Monday, May 26, 2008

Gone But Not Forgotten

To my wife's surprise I just finished reading a book. A big book called The Men of Oregon, written by marathon runner and Sports Illustrated reporter Kenny Moore. The book is a biography on the legendary University of Oregon's cross country and track coach, Bill Bowerman. Bowerman produced countless All-Americans and Olympians for nearly a quarter-century before retiring in 1972. The renowned distance running tradition he established at Oregon remains today. (By the way, he also helped founded a tiny shoe company called Nike.)

I was able to finish a big book like this because it honed in on a guy who did so much to advance the sport of distance running in America. It was a page turner because I was able to recall some of my own experiences running cross country and track in college. Recalling personal experiences is something that I am fortunately able to do but potential runners currently attending my alma mater cannot. You see, I graduated from Cleveland State University in downtown Cleveland, Ohio nearly 20 years ago. I finished my studies three years before the school pulled the plug on men's cross country and track. CSU still fields a women's cross country team which competes in the Horizon League. But due to state budget cuts in the early 90s and being compliant with Title IX which requires NCAA schools have an equal number of female athletes as males, Cleveland State stopped competing in men's cross country and track after 1993.

Keep in mind that I love my alma mater. I attend at least a dozen athletic events on campus a year and I proudly wear my forest green and white CSU sweatshirt to every one of them. This past year Cleveland State, as a small Division I school, compiled an impressive list of accomplishments like sending their women's volleyball and women's basketball teams to the NCAA Tournament. And the men's tennis team went to their NCAA Tournament as well. Sure they all lost in the first round, but it may take a few more years before David is able to beat Goliath. Let's also not forget that the men's basketball team played in their first Horizon League Championship final and made it to the NIT for the first time in two decades.

Win or lose, I am there for my Cleveland State Vikings. I am grateful for having had the opportunity to represent them as a cross country and track athlete back in the 1980s, but saddened that a program with such a rich distance running tradition was canceled.

I started running cross country and track when I was a freshman in high school. I stood 4' 10" and weighed 74 pounds (84 if you count running with ankle weights). Despite pressure from the football coach to join his team and become his star linebacker, I opted for cross country instead. Before long I was winning some races and started making a name for myself. Which was a good thing because guys my size run the risk of getting stuffed in lockers every day. My running talent "bought" me protection from school bullies. They thought my head was not screwed on right because every time they saw me I was logging some serious miles. "Don't mess with that guy - he's crazy," said the school bullies.

Soon I shot up to 5' 9" and was a few pasta dinners away from 120 pounds. I continued to excel in cross country and in the 2 mile in track for my high school. To maintain a competitive edge I entered many 5K and 5 mile road races throughout northeast Ohio. It was at the road races where I got my first glimpse of where I wanted to one day go to college if I were ever going to amount to a true distance runner after high school. Members of the Cleveland State cross country team were dominating the road racing scene all around me and taking home all of the shiny trophies! I did some investigating, which in those days meant going to the library and looking at old sports page clippings from the Plain Dealer. I had to become part of this tradition and prayed that one day their coach would recruit me.

Senior year of high school was exciting. Coach Dave Burger of Cleveland State was finally recruiting me, but so were many other schools. This made it difficult. One day I was going to one college, the next day I was going somewhere else. One thing is for sure, Coach Burger provided the most interesting campus visit. One that included a 10 mile run dowtown and around the flats with a member of their team; followed by a trip to the infamous Chinese restaurant Chins on St. Clair Avenue for some Chicken Chow Mein; and concluded with a tour of his office adorned with pictures of many CSU runners past and present. Runners like two-time All-American cross country runner Marc Hunter, All-American Don James, and local road racing heroes Ted Rupe and Dave Brehmer. And a future Hall of Famer named Corey Frost.

Despite the enjoyable campus tour of Cleveland State, I ended up at cross-town John Carroll University for my freshman year. My brother was a student there, my grandfather went there, and my parents liked the idea of me going there. We are Catholic and all of my siblings were attending Catholic schools and I did not want to be the one to break tradition.

I immediately embraced my new role as a college student-athlete. I trained hard and competed in cross country and track for the John Carroll Blue Streaks. School was going well, running was fun, but something was missing. And it did not feel right competing against Cleveland State at the City Championship Meet either. After a year at John Carroll, I cautiously walked up to my parents and informed them that I wanted to transfer to Cleveland State, that is, if it was okay with them. I told them John Carroll was nice, but I felt like I would fit in better at Cleveland State. They are Division I and my friends were going there. They questioned my reasons for transferring but gave me their blessing anyway.

So after a slight detour I entered the very college I had wanted to attend since the 10th grade as a full-fledged college sophomore. For the remainder of my college career I would run lots of road races and even spend some time as a proud member of Coach Burger's cross country, indoor track, and outdoor track teams.

I would never become a Marc Hunter, Ted Rupe, or Corey Frost, but I had the experience of a lifetime. Something you would not expect to hear from a serious cross country runner attending an urban campus surrounded by so much cement. I mean, come on...cross country running...in Cleveland? Where are all the corn fields, the woods, and the marshy areas? How can anyone become a true cross country runner at Cleveland State?

Simple. You fall in love with the streets and bridges of downtown Cleveland. You embrace that pungent smell from the fish factory on the west bank of the flats because to CSU runners THIS IS altitude training. You learn to accept that running for your life from large stray dogs when getting temporarily lost in one of Cleveland's many fine neighborhoods is simply called speed work.

The fact of the matter is, I don't know how Cleveland State built such a fine distance running tradition, but they did. The program was started by Coach Burger in 1965 shortly after Fenn College became Cleveland State. The program ended after the 1993 track season. In between many great things happened under the tutelage of one coach.

The "dynasty" era of those 28 years took place during the 1970s when Cleveland State was ranked in the Top 20 three times. The "Running Boom" was spreading like wildfire throughout America but nobody expected someone from Cleveland State to make it big on the national scene. But make it big someone did. CSU's Marc Hunter ran his way to a 4th place finish at the 1977 NCAA Division I Cross Country Championship, just seconds away from Kenya's national champion, Henry Rono from Washington State. The University of Oregon won the team title that year but Marc Hunter beat all seven of their runners including somebody by the name of Alberto Salazar. The same Alberto Salazar that would go on to win the New York City and Boston Marathons and set an American record of 2:08.13 in the marathon a few years later.

The prominence of Cleveland State's distance program enhanced its recruiting clout and annual schedule. Runners from my generation got the chance to compete in prestigious meets like the Notre Dame Invitational, Drake Relays, and LSU Relays because runners like Marc Hunter put Cleveland State on the map. The very successful and world-class Cleveland Revco 10k and Marathon started and ended at Cleveland State University throughout the 1980s and early 90s. Distance running at Cleveland State was a staple on campus, much like Rascal House Pizza.

It was only fitting that Coach Burger was able to capture the Mid-Continent Conference (formerly AMCU-8) cross country title in 1992, the last year of the program. I was not around then but I can only imagine the mood. Do all good things have to come to an end? Or is this merely a break until Cleveland State reinstates the program. Until then, runners of the CSU community should check out the Hall of Fame plaques of Coach Burger, Marc Hunter, Don James, Ted Rupe, and Corey Frost the next time they visit the Wolstein Center on campus. And never forget that men's cross country (and track) used to exist at Cleveland State. Maybe someone will blog about it one day.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

No Banana Seats And Handle-Bar Streamers Here

Long before Cleveland welcomed the modern day Gravity Games a different breed of athlete rolled into town for a week, got paid handsomely, then wheeled off to another big city just as fans were getting to know them. It was the 1920s and 30s. The period defined as the Jazz Age by F. Scott Fitzgerald, this breed of athlete competed in what was known as the ultimate sport of the day: Six-Day Bicycle Racing - indoors!

The sport was in its heyday throughout major US cities during the 20s and 30s, but could trace its origins back to the 1880s. Outdoor bicycle races were already popular in Europe near the end of the 19th century but England adopted indoor racing as its venue because their roads were in fairly poor condition. Competing on wooden tracks called velodromes, dozens of bicyclists whipped around steep banked ovals in front of large crowds in the name of sport and notoriety.

A phenomenon this good had to cross the Atlantic eventually and so it did in 1891 at Madison Square Garden. The first seven years featured individual riders spinning like well-oiled hamster wheels night and day hoping to log the most miles and be crowned champion. Starting in 1898 the sport adopted 2-man relay teams. This enabled teammates to take turns racing while the other took naps, ate, or simply remained loose until it was his turn to take over.

Before long the Six-Day Bicycle Race spread to other major US cities like Cleveland. Sports-starved fans packed the seats of Public Hall, Grays Armory, and the Cleveland Arena in pursuit of some much needed action. Fans were hungry because the college football season at nearby John Carroll University was over and Cleveland Indian baseball at League Park was still a good six weeks away.

Unlike Madison Square Garden which was originally designed as an indoor bicycle arena, most US cities like Cleveland constructed their velodromes over the course of one night at a cost of about $2,500 and placed them in makeshift arenas like Public Hall. The track was laid out and the riders poured in as the last nail was driven in. As many as 2,500 miles later, while the victorious team polished its medals and pulled splinters out of their seats, the track was dismantled and sold as firewood. In some cases the track would remain in storage until next year's race.

Even though the face-painted, squid-tossing, shirtless fan had not come into existence yet, the Six-Day Bicycle Race drew a unique following of its own. Young women called Flappers cut their hair short, wore lots of makeup, and showed off their legs from the knees down. They traveled with their boyfriends, known back then as Sheiks. Even suspected gangsters took time away from stealing, loan-sharking, and climbing the godfather ladder to attend the Six-Days. Add the mix of local comedians, jugglers, and nightclub bands which entertained as the bicyclists whipped by and you had the making of six fun-filled days and nights without having to leave land.

The sport enjoyed popularity unmatched by any other during the 20s and 30s. The Depression pushed on, money was scarce, and people had a lot of time on their hands. Some fans watched the races for days, most popped in for the important parts like the highly anticipated start and the final stretches of the race. Even though the fans were hurting for money, the athletes were among the highest paid sports stars of their time. But this and the fact that race promoters spent lots of money on building these huge shows did not stop ordinary people from buying tickets. People needed comfort and assurance during these tough times. The races provided excitement and a chance for "everyday joes" to see famous athletes and mix with celebrities. It was not uncommon for local celebs to act as official starters of the races. Some years later a new generation of Six-Day enthusiasts would witness Indians pitching ace Bob Feller start the 1951 race at the Cleveland Arena.

The phenomenon of the Six-Day Bicycle Race in Cleveland was marked by the countless duos of physically fit athletes competing for six straight days and nights with little sleep and food. Fans witnessed 146 hours of non-stop action but on the track the riders endured fatigue and exhaustion. Crashes happened frequently and injured riders and their bent bikes had to be carefully plucked from the track. Hushed crowds stood by patiently waiting for word that their favorite rider would be okay. Just then another rider would "steal" a lap boldly tempting the rest of the field to pursue him and the chase was on! Catching every moment of these spectacles were reporters from the Cleveland Press and Cleveland Plain Dealer. The sport was that big. Picture the Tour de France with more miles and less head wind. Not to mention the Flappers, gangsters, and Sheiks oh my!

The Six-Day Bicycle Races came and went every Cleveland winter even as World War II waged on. Sadly, the sport faded away during the 1950s not only in Cleveland but elsewhere. Race promoters could not keep people interested as more and more fans paid attention to football, baseball, basketball, and hockey. What was once revered as America's greatest indoor sport soon dwindled to a recreational activity. In recent years, however, the concept of bicycling indoors has resurfaced. There is talk of proposed arenas where riders of all skill levels can go during the winter months to ride and work out. Perhaps even one in downtown Cleveland? We can put it right next to the proposed medical mart. That ought to bring all of those Flappers out of hiding!

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Remember When Gas Used To Be $3.00 A Gallon?

Ah, I remember it like it was yesterday. The year was 2007. No one must have been buying gas in Cleveland that year because I was buying it for peanuts.

Brushing the good ol' times aside, it is important to point out that the days of $1.50, $2.50, even $3.00 per gallon for gas are gone forever. But before blaming the government, the current administration, 9/11, the war in Iraq, or your friendly neighborhood oil tycoon for this mess, it is important to understand some things about the business of oil.

The business of oil has long been an indicator of how strong or how weak the global economy is, especially in the hearts and minds of western countries and parts of the world with heavily industrialized economies. To put this into perspective one needs to examine some recent history. Let's travel back 30 some years to see if we can compare and contrast some things surrounding the first couple of major US oil crises with that of today's.

In October of 1973 there was an oil embargo placed against the United States, western Europe, and Japan by members of a group known as the Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries (OAPEC). They refused to ship oil to the US and other countries who supported Israel. Israel in recent weeks had been attacked by both Syria and Egypt in what is now known as the Yom Kippur War. OPEC used these events to dramatically increase the price of exported oil to these countries.

OPEC, or the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries, had been established in 1960 as sort of an alliance aimed at protecting the rights and legitimacy of at least 12 oil exporting countries against the "unfair" buying and reselling practices of the US, British, and Dutch oil companies which sought lower oil prices and a reduction in payments to exporting countries for their oil. The 12 original members of OPEC hailed from Iran, the Middle East, Indonesia, Nigeria, Angola, and Venezuela. By the 1970s OPEC wanted a larger share of the world's oil revenues and with it a greater control over the globe's oil production levels.

Was the US "unfair" in its business dealings with the Arab world and its rich oil resources? Was the US support of Israel directly responsible for the spike in oil prices and the subsequent embargo? Or did the OAPEC members see an opportunity to put the squeeze on the US which had been increasing its energy use by over 5% annually and reaping the luxury of consistently low oil prices?

Whatever the reason was, the US found itself near the end of 1973 at the starting line of its first major oil crisis. To make matters worst the US did not have a lot of friends backing them up. The Shah of Iran who was the region's closest ally of the US in those days told the New York Times that the price of oil will increase and increase in a big way for western countries. I think the Shah was a little upset that the West was selling goods like wheat, sugar, and cement to his country at prices 300% above cost. Not to mention the West reselling the same crude oil they bought from them, refined and ready to go at 100 times the price they bought it for. Countries like Iran faced a dilemma. They needed someone to produce their wheat and sugar and had no choice but to pay for it. Maybe they could recover some of these costs by charging more for their oil? Or supporting a 5-month embargo of shipments to the West.

So was it politics or economics which led to the US oil crisis of 1973? I have to refute OAPEC's claim that they are refusing to ship oil to the US because of its support for Israel's right to protect itself from neighbors behaving badly. I'm not an economist, but I'm betting that events leading up to 1973 have its origins in August of 1971. That is when the US, Britain, and other western countries pulled out of the Bretton Woods Accord enabling them to take their currencies off of the gold standard. The US dollar depreciated in value and oil exporters received payments for their oil that was now worth less than before. So they responded throughout the 1970s by pricing barrels of oil against gold. The result was a tremendous oil "shock" which saw the price of oil jump to as high as $80 a barrel by 1979. The New York Stock Exchange lost value. The government affixed price controls and rationing at the pumps (can you imagine today pulling in to a gas station eager to pay $3.86 a gallon and finding a RED flag which back then meant we're closed, no gas?). The government panicked rightfully so in the 1970s and wanted to keep prices from getting too high at the pump and take measures to keep oil production in check. Even at the inconvenience of the consumer.

How does the oil crisis of the 1970s compare with today's? For starters, the same types of people are hit the hardest by high gas prices: the unemployed, the elderly, the young, and businesses which rely on fuel to operate. Fortunately in the current crisis, we have not resorted to shutting down schools and businesses early in the day to save on heating oil like in the 1970s.

Today's problem on the surface appears to be a major oil crisis. The price for a barrel of oil has more than doubled in the past year causing the price of gasoline to hover close to $4 a gallon in recent weeks. A presidential campaign is being conducted with high gas prices being among the top concerns. But is there anything that can be done? Experts from both sides of the political spectrum say no. Not when the world is using up the increasing amounts of gasoline it is. The US and the West (despite federal and private efforts to come up with alternative resources to fuel transportaion and energy) continues to buy oil at record-breaking levels. Not to mention the growing economies of China and India, both of which have seen a dramatic increase in their oil consumption in just the last few years. The greatest super-power country in the world has to ask the Saudis to increase production, namely put a bandage on a festering sore to temporarily relieve the pain at the pump. But the Saudis cannot help because it does not make any sense economically to produce more fuel when they are already meeting the demands of the world just fine.

So are the fuel problems we as the greatest super-power country face today systematic? Event triggering? Driven by increased demand? Or the result of being too "green" and not tapping into our national reserves (estimated at close to 80 billion barrels worth) at home? With no end in sight I vote for a "Manhattan Project" like program to see who can come up with the safest, most economical, environmentally-friendly, economically-profitable vehicle which runs on brussel sprouts (something I won't miss at the grocery store) and competes so heavily against oil it returns prices to 1949 levels and everyone at the pump will have the choice: oil or brussel sprouts? Let's go America. We are the land of opportunity and innovation. Do I have a reality TV show in the making?