On The Road With Denny D

I will never forget the corner stores of my youth. Starlight, was my favorite. Honorable mentions would include: Bulat's, Fred's and Stop 'N' Shop. Every store had what I wanted. I wanted candy. Koho's, mojo's, sponge toffee, pixie sticks, licorice pipes, cigars, babies, jaw breakers, black balls and chocolate bars. There are too many to mention, so I'll shout out my fav's.  Chocolate bars. Sweet Marie was my favorite chocolate bar or candy bar, if you're American. I don't see her anymore. She must have divorced Oh Henry, took Baby Ruth and move to America. That marriage was off the shelf. Literally. Another chocolate bar I liked was EAT-MORE. My friends thought I was nuts.  But it was good. That mixture of nuts, chocolate and molasses was delightful. Okay, truth be told, I ate them for one reason; to fold up the wrapper, so it read "Eat Me" Kids will be kids. The color of candy. Back when I was kid the color of the candy never offende...

Murder-ball was a game we played in the alley between Buckingham Dr and Westminster Blvd. The object of game was obvious. Don't get murdered. Escaping death under a pile of kids with the ball cuddled in your arms, was the only way to win. We used whatever ball we could find, usually a football. We'd hurled the ball up in the air and as it came down, like jump ball in basketball, we would leap to retrieve it but instead of batting it away to a teammate, we caught it. Our reward for catching the ball; premeditated murder. Someone was going to die, we planned it and we were all in.  It was a silly game and upon refection, one question comes to mind. Why? Maybe our roughhousing was just a well needed muddy group hug. I have to admit that I was okay to participate in the pile on but to catch the ball and be at the bottom of the mud bath, no thanks. I wouldn't try to catch the ball. Are you kidding me, they'd have send out a search party to find me in the mud. I jumped on top...

In the early seventies McDonald's came to town. Burgers were twenty five cents and cheese burgers were thirty five cents. Mom would pick up a bag every once in a while for us kids and of course for our elastic band grandma. Meme' loved those burgers. That tangy zip of mustard, ketchup and pickles was just the ticket and so tasty. There was only one place better.  We lived four houses down from the best greasy spoon in Windsor. The Hi Ho restaurant had it all. French fries, burgers, foot long hot dogs, curb service, hot babes, hot rods and strange little men disguised as short order cooks. It was our neighborhood hangout.  It was the place where if you were grumpy, you'd get a burger named after you but you had to eat it while six other hungry dwarfs stared at you. Sneezy, didn't have anything named after him for obvious reasons.  Our favorite Hi Ho food was their famous foot long hotdog. A toasted ten inch long flat sided bun opened wide enough to slather on must...