The Atlanta Constitution from Atlanta, Georgia • 15

THE ATLANTA CONSTITUTION, Jan. 21, 3-H mm I II -Ss 7 Or eing up Tine Image Gone are the days of passion pits and Parking Palaces. Today's theaters are catering to the family trade. 'MI Pepys Enjoyed Life Sometimes I think there are lessons to be learned from every single soul on earth or below it. Samuel Pepys, for instance.

I don't know when I have thought of the Eng- -lish diarist, much less read him. As I remembered he was something of a silly fop and terribly self-engrossed. But -that was an impression from a long time ago because well, who reads Pepys except by assignment of some Eng- lish teacher? But the other night, feeling sort of discouraged and not much interested in the new books I have laid off to read, I picked up a book of English and American essays with the idea of finding something so dull I'd fall asleep immediately. By luck there was Robert Louis Stevenson's evaluation of Pepys. How I have misjudged the man! Mr.

Pepys was not a great writer. He did consider himself and his life pretty fascinating. And he was such a conformist that if all the nice people were dishonest "rather than appear singular" he would, as Mr. Stevenson put it, "cheerfully remain a thief." The best thing about him was, as Stevenson said, that he was "delightfully alive" and he did not miss a thing a day in his life had to offer. "He must always be doing something agreeable, and, by preference, two agreeable things at once.

In his house he had a box of carpenter's tools, two dogs, an eagle, a canary and a blackbird that whistled tunes, lest, even in that full life, he should chance upon an empty moment." If he had to wait for his breakfast he played the flageolet. If a sermon was dull he read a book or diverted his mind "with sly advances on the nearest women." If he walked it was with a book in his pocket "to beguile the way in case the nightingales were silent" "The whole world, town or country, was to Pepys a garden of Armida. Wherever he went, his steps were winged with the most eager expectation; whatever he did, it was done with the most lively pleasure," wrote Mr. Stevenson. He was "equally pleased with a watch, a coach, a piece of meat, a tune upon the fiddle," he goes on to say, "yet more by the beauty, the worth, the mirth or the mora scenic attitude in life of his fellow creatures." It is Mr.

Stevenson's contention that because Pepys liked himself so much he was equipped to love his neighbors. And he quoted a Pepys account from 1662 when he walked "upon the downes" and found a shepherd and his little boy tending the sheep. It is a charming description but, better than that a savouring and joy in the day, the conversation, the people. He did mention that he gave the shepherd some money but since it was in his diary it can't be said that he gave and told. As Mr.

Stevenson sums up: "This was how he walked through life, his eyes and ears wide open, and his hand, you will observe, not shut; and thus he observed the lives, the speech, and the manners of his fellow-men, with prose fidelity of detail and yet a lingering glamour of romance." It made me ashamed for skipping Pepys all these years. And, more than that, it made me sorry I haven't more assiduously cultivated his talent for seeing and hearing and enjoying life. I wonder what he would think of the world's accomplishments in the last 200 years. By FARNUM GRAY CmtintlM Eitetulimnt Writer Drive-in theaters have come a long way since the days of The Parking Palace on Stewart Avenue. "In those days (1935), we thought you had to have each row of cars on a separate terrace," said H.

T. Posey, vice president of Dixie Drive-In Theatres. A pioneer in the industry, Posey helped start The Parking Palace and has worked with drive-ins ever since. "The old dump was badly said of that first drive-in. It was on two acres and parked about 50 cars.

The unique feature of The Parking Palace was stalls for each car. The purpose of the stalls was "to provide privacy," Posey said. "And that was part of our problem. "The cars had too much privacy. We got a terrible reputation.

"We had to kill that image, and in 1942 we got our chance. The government imposed the pleasure ban a ban on using cars for pleasure at a time when gasoline was rationed. "We closed The Parking Palace and another one, and never did re-open them," Posey recalled. Subsequently Posey's company opened other drive-ins, larger and without the "ill-conceived" parking stalls. At one time the company had 18 drive-ins, though it's now down to seven, with none in the Atlanta area.

Other drive-in theater owners have 'worked hard to get rid of the "passion pit" image. Now nearly all the drive-in theaters in the area cater to a family trade. a hardtop trend: the dividing of a theater to permit screening of more than one movie at a time. Whittaker is enthusiastic about the effect of that trend on profits. Here, though, hardtops have one advantage.

"In a hardtop," Whittaker said, "you can put an R-rated movie on one screen and a Walt Disney on another." But in a drive-in, where a patron can glimpse the other screen, ratings have to be matched, he said. Within the business, drive-in patrons are renowned for their performance at the concession stand. The average drive-in patron spends 80 cents on concessions, as compared to 40 cents for the average hardtop patron, Whittaker said admiringly. Intermissions are as short as 15 minutes, so great emphasis is put on the streamlining of concessions operations, which often use a cafeteria style of serving. And the image of a "family" theater has been helped by policemen hired by the theaters to patrol the parking lot and keep the lovers from getting over-excited.

"After all," said Posey, "we depend on family trade. You wouldn't want to go there with your wife and kids and see someone in the next car going the limit." Despite the new image and the convenience of the drive-in theaters, there is little chance new drive-ins will be built in Atlanta. The main reason is the high cost of real estate. Drive-in property already has been sold to stores here for as much as 95,000 an-acre. A drive-in with space for 500 to 1,000 The appeal of the drive-in is its convenience, especially to families with children.

Baby sitters are expensive and often have to be booked as far in advance as a dental appointment. Another factor is the cost of tickets. Most "hardtops," as the indoor theaters are called in the trade, charge $2.50 or S3 for adults and SI for children. The usual drive-in price is $2 for adults and 50 cents for children under 12. "All children are under 12," a veteran drive-in executive said with a chuckle.

Thus, many of the cars entering drive-ins have children in the back seat A traditional sight is the pickup or flatbed truck backed up to the screen, overflowing with a batch of kids that must have been recruited from a whole neighborhood. When campers and microbuses became popular, they, too, took their place, with or without psychedelic decorations, with the heads of movie watchers protruding through their open back gates. Most drive-ins also have playground equipment where the children of early arrivers can blow off steam until darkness settles. The drive-in also is the only place for the compulsive chain-smoker, since Georgia statute prohibits smoking in closed theaters. Drive-ins have lost their monopoly on a couple of other advantages.

Their patrons don't have to go into town or scramble for parking places, but that is true also of the hardtops that have sprouted in suburban shopping centers. In fact, drive-ins now are picking up on cars needs about 20 there's no cheap 20 acres in Atlanta," according to E. E. Whittaker, executive vice president and operations manager of Georgia Theater which does the largest drive-in business in the Atlanta area. Whittaker said his company, which operates nine drive-ins, has been offered as much as $60,000 an acre for property that once cost $1,000 an acre.

When that kind of profit is available for the taking, why don't they sell? "We're in the theater business," Whittaker said. "Anyway, the property isn't going anywhere. Why sell it when it will continue to gain in value?" The story is much the same at Storey Theatres.Inc, which operates four Atlanta-area drive-ins. Income from drive-ins is good, but not in relation to the property investment, said James Edwards, Storey vice president. "We would build more drive-ins if we had the opportunity, but the minimum cost of land is $20,000 to $30,000 an acre," Edwards said.

The Storey and Georgia Theater execu-. tives both emphasized that they, maintain family entertainment places. "We don't even sell beer," Whittaker said. "I don't say no beer is consumed, because we pick up some beer cans, but none is sold." As for the veteran, Posey, even though none of his company's theaters are in Atlanta, where he lives, he still goes almost exclusively to drive-ins. "I'm spoiled," he said.

4 l( SPRING'S i NATURAL OF FORTREL Combine in TOTS Comedy: John McGiver, Lee Meredith, Jack Gilford Three Comedians on Comedy "I think they have inoculations for that now that they didn't have in the 50s," he said. That's the way the banter went at "Why, no, I never have, but that's the nicest question ever asked me," quips Gilford, knowing full well the question was directed to the blonde at his side. But yes, Miss Meredith has frequently been compared to the sex and she doesn't mind at all because she admired her. The only time the comparison gets in her way is when she wants to play a role without Monroe overtones (as in "Seven Year Itch) and yet the audience seems to expect it from her, she says. Miss Meredith has had quite a bit of exposure, notably in Playboy (but not the centerfold where actresses usually don't appear she says) and at first this made her husband furious.

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From Miss Ansley Dresses, Fourth Floor Downtown, all suburban stores. Order by mail or "Fortrel is a trademark of Fiber Industries, Inc. a subsidiary of Celantsa "But when it came out, he accepted it as just business," Miss Meredith adds sweetly. She says she would prefer not to pose or perform in the By HELEN C. SMITH It takes some people a long time to get around to essentials.

"I've never kissed before," says Jack Gilford, veteran actor who opens Tuesday in "The Seven Year Itch" at the Peachtree Playhouse. Pause. For effect, of course. "On stage," he adds. He thinks he might try it again, particularly if he can always have Lee Meredith, a blond bombshell of ample proportions, opposite him.

"You know what resuscitation is like?" asks Gilford. "Well, we go beyond that. It's very pleasant work, a friendliness of a very high order." Because there is such a kissing scene in the comedy, Miss Meredith and Gilford have a pact with each other that they will not eat garlic, horseradish, or onions prior to a performance. But Monday was a rehearsal day (with the kissing scene de- leted) so they indulged the no-no foods while they talked about the play and other things. With them at the press lunch were John McGiver, who plays the literary Esychoanalyst friend to the summer achelor on a fling, and his wife, who rarely gets to go on tour with her husband.

Ten children, with three still at home in a converted Baptist church in the Catskills, keep her busy at home. Miss Meredith, who has been married five and a half years, is a little bit bothered by her role as the summer mistress. "It makes me worry about what might happen. I've always had a dread of the seventh year of marriage, because I see so many divorces and split-ups around that time." Gilford consoled her. nude (as she did in one film) but will if it's necessary even if she on her the lunch.

And yes, a comedian can be just as funny off-stage and off-camera as on. But Gilford doesn't consider himself a comedian although he was that at one time in his wide career. To. always be expected to come up with a funny remark can be a burden at times, Gilford concedes, although he doesn't seem to have a bit of trouble in doing so. "A funny thing happens to comedians, though," Gilford says.

"If they become well known enough, all they really have to do is say hello and somebody will think that's funny." McGiver is a less loquacious, more somber-looking person who surprises you when a funny remark comes out of his serious face. He looks as if he could play straight roles as well as comedy ones, but he says he never has because he can't "I would love to play Macbeth, but Id fall flat on my head. I'm really only good at comedy, and there are very few straight parts that appeal to me so I don't have any inclination to try." McGiver holds three college degrees, including masters degrees in English and in fine arts. "Before the war, I had a thought of teaching 18th-ce erature, but that was about cents. But it's no loss.

I enjoy Ihm where there are books that can tell me where Samuel Johnson had his laundry done." Back to general chatter. Have you ever been compared to Marilyn Monroe? honeymoon, as was the case with the movie. They locked my husband in his room upstairs while the scene was A SOUTHERN INSTITUTION SINCE III) I oeing taken. But appearing without her makeup on is another matter. "The neighbors expect me to look glamorous, so I can't even take the garbage out without having my lace made up.

Miss Meredith, by the way, prides herself on her culinary arts and says she was named best actress gourmet cook last year. Back to Gilford, who is thought of sa often as a comedian that his. sfriight acting career is often over looked, but it's there, as is a snot.