Drive-in Date.

I love the drive-in. Despite all the things that could go wrong with it (ankle-biting mosquitos, stale oversalted popcorn, sound that may or may come through clear, backaches if you didn't bring enough pillows), it always ends up being that nostalgia-tinted summer-night activity that feels pretty hazy and dreamy while you're still in it. I wouldn't want everything to be picture Kinfolk-perfect (and goodness knows I eat that vibe up like so many seasonal picnic dinners) because the cheesy off-kilter kind of crappy parts are the whole point, aren't they? I'm lucky enough to have three drive-ins in the area (varying distances, of course), but it's one of those things I...