Had a wonderful dinner with my cousin Lisa at Mozelles Fresh Southern Bistro on 4th Street in Winston-Salem, NC. Sitting in the restaurant conjured a memory of 50 years ago when this was a Toddle House Diner. One Spring Saturday morning soon after we moved into the newly-built house (mustve been 1964), Daddy and his cigar, with me in tow, went to the garden center at the Sears on 4th St, to order trees, grass seed and flowers to cover the red clay that surrounded the house. Prying me away from the popcorn and candy, Daddy explained Ya Mama wants you to eat big boy food - not junk. I was four, but quickly understood that no candy or toys were part of this trip. After what seemed an eternity deliberating over marigolds, fescue and saplings, he took me across the street to the Toddle House and put me on a stool beside him at the counter. I had to sit still because I was so high up and I couldnt fill up on juice if I wanted to get big like Jackie, my eighteen-year-old brother away at big boy school. An older man was paying his check and left a nickel for a tip. The waitress cursed at him as he was leaving and Daddy told her to watch her language in front of the youngun because hes not used to hearing that kind of talk - except from me. She laughed and apologized but I didnt get it. Later at the dinner table, Mama didnt get it, either, when I turned to her shaking my head and yelled Thanks a helluvalot, mister!.
Posted on: Sat, 30 Aug 2014 07:30:24 +0000