Greasy Spoon Memories

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 mustard, relish and onions. A happy receptacle to a foot long casing of mystery meat goodness. It was the size of a car minus the curb. The parking space for the foot long was a long cardboard box with no top and one end missing. They would place the hot dog boat into a long white bag and twist the end to seal the meal or the deal.  I believe Hi Ho invented the term, doggy bag. In fact, hot dogs to go, always came in a doggy bag. Okay, it was a bunch of bagged up dogs in a big brown paper bag. It was supper we didn't care about particulars or about any of my future attempts at being cheesy. However, cheese was an option but we didn't believe in killing the dog twice. I mean to slice it down the middle to shove a piece of cheese down the center. Just wrong. 

On occasion I would follow my sister's inside. I remember sitting on the pedestal seat spinning left then right. I became fixture. Like I was the eight dwarf. I could have been; I was that small. Just call me, Thirsty. My sister's would drink cherry Coke. It was a girl thing. Me, being the macho kid I was trying to be, asked for other options. The waitress was so kind to me as she went through the options. We agreed that Rum and Coke was more my style. She'd pour me a frosty glass of cola soda pop with a shot of rum extract on top. Surely, this was a real man drink. It was a fun joke too. To see some old drunk with his head on the counter trying recover from a bender at Charlie's the night before to see some small kid walk in sit down beside him and order a rum and Coke. I have to admit that that concoction and the need for attention had me scrambling for money. I needed my fix.  I needed more money. Where was I going to get it. I couldn't tell my mom and dad about my addiction. I had it bad. I was desperate. I'm sure by now you're saying, sure Dennis. Okay, a little embellishment or a  flair for the dramatic doesn't hurt anyone. Especially, if it gets a laugh or a little smile. Back to the cash.

I had an allowance when I was a kid. I was allowed to eat, sleep and live under my parents roof. To get rewarded for that would be wrong. I wasn't about to do chores for money. No, I was an entrepreneur. I found other ways to make money. I had to be sneaky because my sisters often beat to it but I remember collecting empty pop bottles and cashing them in at Starlight variety store. I'd have just enough cash to grab a pack of hockey cards, a bag of penny candy and I still have some left over to run across the street to the Hi Ho to get my fix. I had an caffeine/attention addiction.  I just had see that nice waitress and get me some soda pop love.  It was just Rum and Coke and I needed it or maybe I just needed a friend. I was lucky, I got both.

It seemed as I grew up so did the Hi Ho. Soon it was a thriving restaurant. Table, chairs and booths, oh my. I went from the snack bar to the booth. I got a well deserved upgrade. I was big kid now. I was small cool. I had friends. We had our own booth. We always sat at the first booth to the left. The hours consisted of opening up hockey cards and small talk. The best part of the booth was the jukebox. If I couldn't afford to pay the price for a song, I could flip the song pages for fun while I waited for my soda and fries. Sometimes out of sure boredom we played three penny football or throw paper clips up to see if they'd stick to the drop ceiling. I want to clarify here that the ketchup stains on the ceiling was not of our doing. The gum under the table, well, we did have hockey cards. When the fries came the gum had to go somewhere. 

Oh, those fries. Those long skinny sticks of lard were so good. I never needed ChapStick when I was a kid. I was too young to get any action but I'm pretty sure if had to kiss someone my lips would have been silky smooth. French fries and ketchup there's nothing better. I would occasionally watch people at other tables drown them in Vinegar. Yuck. Or make French fry stew with all the gravy they poured on top. Double yuck. We were simple kids. We ate simple fries and of course I had to have my favorite chaser drink. Oh, to hear that waitress shout out, Hey! kid the usual? made me feel like I was little big shot. Like Frank Sinatra at a steakhouse in Palm Springs. Me and my boys spent many hours in that joint. We even got to hang out with the big kids, Ho hopping. Hi Ho hopping that is. We'd climb in some hot rod and head down Tecumseh Rd to Ouellette, down to the riverside Dr, then west to Sandwich Town.  I for some reason had to sit on the back seat hump but I was happy, I could see better that way. 

Once in a while when elastic band grandma came by my mother would send me to get dinner. Yeah! Hot dogs for everyone. Anything was better than my mom's liver and onions, that smell still makes me gag. The Hi Ho on our corner has changed names a few times. We kind of rolled with the changes and continued to support whatever it's called restaurant. I don't know when it went from hot dogs to halibut but the food was always good. Some of our most favorites family memories happened there. The names have changed but the memories live on. We would meet there every year to celebrate my mothers and grandmothers birthdays and we had our family Christmas parties there too. Now,  it's was just a landmark etched in my memory but I will never forget how lucky we were. 

Here's to the diners of yesteryear. To the food and the memories we shared. 

Thank you.