Father’s Gay Nineties, I miss you so.
The July days I sat within your walls
Filling the endless days of summer.
Shivering in my tank top as the air conditioning
and the ice cream dropped my body temperature by
at least 10 degrees.
Your red velvet walls and black leather booths, reminding me (in later life)
Of a brothel, as I ordered a turkey club sandwich
for the very first time
On white toast, I believe.
Discovering the joys of peanut butter milkshakes
And Dusty sundaes.
Evoking such happiness for my taste buds
That each taste bud should have smoked
A tiny cigarette afterwards.
The countless times we filled your slightly torn booths,
middle school kids, just getting out of a dance.
While some of us loosened the lids on salt shakers, or
filled glasses with water 'til almost overflowing,
Topped the glass with a plate and quickly overturned
To give the appearance of an empty upside down glass
Sometimes leaving our measly tip trapped
under the glass.
The waitresses
Hated us so.
One of these waitresses, my older sister. She was not
Cut out for the food service industry. I liked to
watch her tiny form, bowed under a tray full of
multi-scoop desserts
stagger by and deposit the tray so inelegantly on
it's stand. If only her tips
weren't submerged under that upside down glass.
Memories of a rowboat filled, inexplicably, with ice cream. While a sign
Proclaimed “$99.99!”, the price for this prize. I wondered if
The name of the boat was
Non Sequitor.
Indian Delight occupies the space once held by this giant
Of the ice cream industry. Very happy with Indian Delight,
but I think
If they would sell a dinghy full of
Chicken Tikki Masala
They would get a spike in business.
Father's Gay Nineties, the name alone
rife with possibilities. But I will
leave it alone.
Father’s Gay Nineties, I miss you so.
Unlike this poem, you will not
Be forgotten.
Bob Cross
6:47 am on Thursday, July 26, 2012
OK Cheryl, you have to cut this out. Every literary ode to ice cream you write causes an obsession filled day. I guess I'll have to go see Ms. Rhonda tonight and get it out of my system. I remember those days too.
Chris
7:41 am on Thursday, July 26, 2012
So you were the one with the salt shakers!!
As one of the watresses - we worked like dogs. 25 -50cent tips and we would make 50-60 $ a night! I think half of my high school class worked there. Some went on to start very successful businesses. Unfortunately, I was not one of them :)
George Cominos , the owner, was the sweetest and kindest man!
noel medina
8:26 am on Thursday, July 26, 2012
This was my first job. Loved that place!! So much fun!
Cindy Wills
9:44 am on Thursday, July 26, 2012
What a great place this was. Thanks for the memory-not of the bad stuff you did- but of the nice fun place it was. Loved t take my young daughters there. I think it is one of their fond memories of growing up in Catonsville.
Teresa Sullivan
11:05 am on Thursday, July 26, 2012
We used to go to Fathers after high school basketball games and we would always want to try for the Zombie Sundae with as many kids as we could jam in there. Such good times, I miss it too!
Deb O'Doherty
2:08 pm on Thursday, July 26, 2012
My first job also loved it there
Vicki Cominos Khoshtinat
6:54 am on Friday, July 27, 2012
I loved all the comments and to the author of this great ode. I miss the restaurant and all the fun I had there growing up. It holds special memories for me as It was my parents restaurant. I will never forget those days of working long hours but so much fun. What a great group of people that worked there, and some friends for life !!!
Cheryl Dunigan
11:02 am on Friday, July 27, 2012
Vicki Khoshtinat- can't thank your family enough for the memories your restaurant gave me! My favorite restaurant of all time (Pappy's runs a close second).
Toni Cominos Tsiotis
8:15 pm on Sunday, July 29, 2012
This was the most touching and sweet stories. Reading this brought tears to my eyes. You see I worked with George and your right he was a sweet and funny guy ,he was the pied piper of all children . George could not do it without Helen I miss you mom & dad love Toni (daughter)
Jan
7:26 am on Tuesday, August 7, 2012
I lived in Catonsville from 1975-78. I remeber this place well for the colored whipped cream and the imaginative names of the sundaes: "Can't Elope in Season", "Cherry Garden". It was the first time I ever saw flocked wallpaper. The ice cream was good, the memories better. Thanks for posting this.