THE BELL CURVE:Date night at the drive-in

I took a date to a movie last Saturday night. The movie was new, but the theater was old. Very old. I think the last time we were there was in the 1950s.

There have been some changes over the years, mostly technical. But the audience and the ambience are pretty much the same as I remember them 50 years ago.

My date and I were wallowing in nostalgia at Newport-Mesa’s oldest-newest theater, the Star-Vu Drive-In, that has set up shop in the parking lot of the Orange County Fairgrounds in Costa Mesa. If the response in its opening week is any harbinger, it is going to be around for a long time — except, of course, when the fair preempts its parking lot from July 1 to Aug. 11.

We were forewarned of an early sell-out and still almost missed the cut. When we arrived at 6:50 p.m. for an 8:30 p.m. movie, there were dozens of cars already in line, and a checker was coming down the line to count newcomers who didn’t have tickets and notify them when the capacity of this showing was reached. Turning away customers is the price of success for a new toy on a warm spring evening — and it will be likely more so when spring turns to summer.

We were clearly going to be in the back of the pack, but when we paid our $8.50 apiece (no breaks for seniors here, just kids), we were inexplicably pulled out of line and waved forward, settling into the third row of cars directly in front of the enormous inflated screen. An affable attendant — every staff member turned out to be affable — told us we had lucked out because our Toyota offered a low profile for those parked behind us, so we got upgraded to a choice spot.

Your SUVs won’t get that preferential treatment.

With plenty of time before darkness set in, we went searching for popcorn, making our way through a settlement of small people behind us who were awaiting the movie with various types of unhealthy food in hand.

The scene was rather like the tail-gating parties at USC football games. Only the age of the audience and the nature of the drinks being ingested differed. The atmosphere was convivial, crossing generations effortlessly. It was rather like we were all experiencing a reincarnation of youth, even for those who had never before experienced drive-in movies.

The pattern of cars was strangely convoluted. About half of them faced away from the screen with tail gates down and lawn chairs scattered about. When we passed the occupants of the chairs later in the evening, they were huddled in blankets against the growing chill.

The drive-ins we remembered were always watched from inside the car, for two reasons, equally important. We had to be in the car to hear the sound coming from a speaker hung on the inside of a front window — and, also, to enjoy the privacy of a back seat that was often more important than the movie being shown.

I may have been the only patron at the Star-Vu on Saturday night who had never before been exposed to either the first “Shrek” or “Shrek 2.” So I hit “Shrek the Third” cold — and I won’t be looking for “Shrek 4,” even at my friendly, neighborhood drive-in. So after I finished my popcorn, I found the back seat was not in the game plan on this night of wholesome “Shrek” and made my way through the huddled masses to a distant restroom. I dozed and watched intermittently. There were no technical problems. Although I had fleeting concerns over a declining battery, the sound played clearly and without incident on our car radio, and the screen was never once wrinkled as I remembered movies projected in distant islands on sheets strung up on clotheslines during World War II.

As we were efficiently evacuated, it was clear that either a lot of kids would be sleeping through the 10:30 show or a lot of back seats would be occupied.

I’m thinking about returning to find out after “Shrek” is moved offstage.

They named a building at UC Irvine for Dan Aldrich last week, and I can’t think of anyone who deserves this honor more or who could serve as a better model to look up to in dealing with the agonies this country is suffering today.

I was privileged to spend most of my 21 years of teaching at UCI under Chancellor Dan, many of them during the divisions and disruptions — especially on college campuses — of the Vietnam War.

Faced with the challenge of steering a straight and level course of academic independence and nonjudgmental reason in one of the most conservative counties in the United States, Aldrich brought it off without a false move that I can remember. I firmly believe it was a unique achievement.

Aldrich navigated steadfastly through minefields of speakers and situations that even Berkeley couldn’t handle. He was as direct and straightforward as his agricultural background. And he was righteous without ever being self-righteous.

We had faculty tennis tournaments in those days, and that’s the picture of Dan Aldrich I carry in my head.

I played against him a number of times, and I can still see him clearly standing at the net, a mountain of man, difficult to get around, but always ready to acknowledge a good shot. And standing firm, like the administration building that now properly carries his name.