The night Jackie Gleason ticked off my dad

It was the summer of 1978, I was 11 years old. My whole family had loaded up in our avocado green 1972 Plymouth Fury Station wagon. We had drinks, snacks, pillows, and blankets. Yep, the Chesney's were going to the drive-in theater!

There were a handful of drive-in's open in Knoxville back in the 70's. I can remember the Twin-Aire on Clinton Hwy, the Chapman Hwy Drive-in, and our favorite, the Family Drive-In on North Broadway beside the K-mart. I know there were others but those are the ones that stand out in my mind. Anyway, we motored into the Family Drive-In, picked out the perfect parking spot, hooked the speaker on the side of the window, spread out our blankets in the back of the wagon, and settled in to watch Smoky and the Bandit. We were so excited. Normally our parents would only take us to see G rated movies, which were usually Disney movies, but tonight we were watching PG!

The first 15 minutes or so started out ok, but when Jackie Gleason (Sheriff Buford T. Justice) came on the scene, things became interesting. I guess I lived a pretty sheltered life while growing up because I had never heard such filthy words coming out of another person's mouth in my life. I glanced over at my dad just as he was ripping the speaker off of the side of the station wagon. The next thing I knew the big V8 of the Plymouth had fired up and us kids were holding on for dear life as my dad spun gravels all the way out of that drive-in. On the drive home, I could hear my parents up front in a heated discussion about the "crap that they were calling movies these days."

It's funny, I watch Smoky and the Bandit these days and it seems pretty tame. It has actually became one of my all-time favorite movies for some strange reason. Maybe I'm dealing with some inner childhood scarring issues... Nah, it's probably just the redneck in me.