Pine Floats

As we get older and we develop more wrinkles than a Shar-pei Hound, we start to cherish friends more than ever. It’s been said repeatedly that our priorities revolve around 3 F’s: Faith, Family and Friends.

When you get on the other side of 70, our bodies start to break down and fall apart like a $690 used car that Julio said ran like a top. It was too bad it didn’t run like a car. We found out it stayed together with duct tape, Bondo and Super Glue. Julio didn’t reveal that ether had to be sprayed in the carburetor to get it going.

A friend who went through a recent traumatic health scare said she could not have made it without friends. When times get tough, TRUE friends unite. Like many of you, we have all been there. Her greatest compliment was this: “I knew I had good friends before my procedure. During and since then, I know I have GREAT friends who will always be there for each other.”

Often when a friend loses a loved one, we ask ourselves: ”What difference does it make if I am not at the funeral? There will be hundreds of others there.” Then, about 2 months later, the friend who lost their parent will say this: “You never will know how much it meant to me for you to drive for hours to be at the service. Seeing you gave me additional comfort.”

By last count, all my classmates have lost their parents. Many of them cooked me dozens of cathead biscuits and chicken fried chicken. They also corrected me when I stepped over the proverbial line and I will forever be grateful. We never envisioned the day that we would all be the remaining generation.

I am guilty of casually calling someone a “dear friend” or a “lifelong friend.” I thank God daily for my friends and also pray for those who aren’t as fortunate.

I have dear friends that I have known for 70 years. I also have some who are just as close to me that I have known for less than 3 years. This is not to diminish either. We recently went on an 8-day cruise with 8 other dear friend couples that we call our Destin Family Friends.

For various reasons, the rest of our Destin family, including couples Rusty and Colleen, Jerry and Tammy, Greg and Velda, Frank and Molly, Al and Kim, Mark and Sally, Charlie and Linda, Jim and Lisa, and Teresa Colvin couldn’t be with us on the cruise. They were truly missed.

Since our schools in Leighton went from the first through the 12th grade, many of us spent 12 years together. Talk about close. You knew each other’s family structure, where the parents worked, where they went to church and who in the family was crazier than a sprayed roach. To this day, we can go months or years without seeing each other and get back together at reunions, funerals or at the St. Jude Trail Ride and pick up like it was yesterday. Old friends like these form the foundation that our values are built upon. We might not remember what we had for breakfast yesterday, but we can still recall what was said in a locker room, huddle or classroom more than 60 years ago with friends.

No yankee psychologist will ever be able to explain how we can remember the winning shot against Leighton Training School, the rodeo clown named Lecille, Mr. Newman’s cigar box or the stores closing at noon on Wednesday. Or, the parking lot full of 1968 Chevelles, the school pride of the CCHS cheerleaders, or the twenty sophomore players who went from the “hamburger team” to a senior class of 1970 who won their last seven games of the year. Our friendship remains stronger than 40 acres of garlic.

Through the years, we developed different “friend groups.” Work friends. Church friends. Social friends. And today, Facebook friends. As a former teacher and coach, many of our truest friends today are with former students and players. As we age, we transform from a coach-player relationship to one of brothers who finally understand each other where mutual respect is off the charts.

What makes a special friend?

Someone who will be there for support without asking questions or expecting anything in return. Some of my closest friends are on opposite ends of the political spectrum but we were there for each other when needed. Real friends check their egos at the door.

Someone who can be a sounding board when it comes to health, business or personal relationships. True friends will listen without waiting on their turn to speak. It’s not easy to be on either end of the comment:” I think you were wrong and should make it right.” Pride and bullheadedness need to fly out the window. Believe me, I have been there.

Someone who finds joy and fun in life. I am the luckiest man on Earth to be surrounded with great friends who enjoy laughing. It can be at each other or more important, at ourselves. With my friends, I am often the butt of many jokes and laugh as hard as they do. Remember: Laughter is usually the best medicine.

Someone who keeps everything in perspective with you. The answer to many questions is often answered with another question: “What difference does it make?” True friends will look at each other like cows looking over a new gate and realize that energy placed on something which doesn’t matter is WASTED energy. Think about social media and some of its mindless content.

The next time I mention something about a “dear friend,” know that’s the greatest badge of honor in my eyes.
If you want to get a debate and conversation started with a Baby Boomer, ask them to tell you about the local ice cream store that they visited in the sixties. Pull up a chair and be prepared for a list of the ice cream flavors and a detailed description concerning the different condiments found on the 30- cent cheeseburger.

For those of us who grew up in Leighton, our “hang-out” was the Dixie Dip on highway 20, about a mile west of THE redlight. Directly behind it was the “Grove.” In our little community, this was the name of the predominately Black section of town.

The Dixie Dip was owned by Lillie and Cordell Riner. Lillie Riner had a heart of gold and loved Colbert County High School. She and “Her Girls” (as she called her workers) would decorate the windows with black and gold streamers for our school. There was no dining room. Only a walk-up window. And some picnic tables.

It was a big deal when you got old enough to hang out in the Dixie Dip parking lot without your parents. On your 16thbirthday when you got your driver’s license, friends were waiting on you to drive up BY YOURSELF for the first time in your life. This newfound freedom at the Dixie Dip cut the last bit of the umbilical cord from Mom and Dad.

Got a new car? Show it off at the Dixie Dip. A date? It was mandatory to stop by the Dixie Dip. After a big game win or loss for that matter? We would rehash every play while leaning against the cars in the Dixie Dip parking lot. The athletic booster club often had sacked burgers for us in the locker room, after we showered. Oh yeah, they came from the Dixie Dip.

Two guys full of testosterone and anger about somebody going out with their “girl?” “Meet me in the Dixie Dip parking lot and we will settle this little dispute.” The few fights never included knives or guns. The number of car racing challenges which were set up here, were famous (or infamous.) Rayburn Johnson, Haywood Lowery, Dennis Ritchie, Wayne Posey, Len Lenz and William McCormack are just a few names that come to mind.

The menu? Milk shakes and hot fudge sundaes. Swirl ice cream. In a cone or in a cup. Hamburgers were a quarter. Cheeseburgers were 30 cents. The Lillie Dip, as we often called it, made a banana split that had about 3,000 calories in it. The plastic boat that it came in was big enough to serve a family of 4, with some left over.

Lillie’s running joke was her special “Pine Float” that she served to the students who were broke. Of course, this meant many of us back then. She would laugh and say: “Since you are low on money, I will make you a pine float at NO charge.” She would come back with a small cup of water with a toothpick floating in it. “Here is your FREE pine float.”

Highway 20 was one of the busiest roads in north Alabama. It connected Decatur with the Shoals area. Truckers and travelers passed through the edge of town and often stopped at the Dixie Dip. What changed? New highway 20 was built about 3 miles south of town. This changed the traffic flow and the demise of the gas stations along old highway 20. At one time in the 60’s, there were more than 6 gas stations on this road. Today, there are ZERO and it has been like that for almost 30 years.

It also meant the demise of the Dixie Dip.

Government highway engineers never asked my opinion about building new roads that bypassed Small Town, America. I could name more than a dozen towns that dried up and blew away when the new bypasses eliminated stop signs and traffic lights. The new generations didn’t have time to stop or even slow down.

The store names of the ice cream drive- ins, seemed to like the names that repeated the same first letter. My wife grew up with the Cream Corner. The Frosty Freeze was in Russellville (one of the few that is still operating.) Dairy Delight. Dairy Dip. Scoopy Spoon. Dipper Dan’s. Twist-n-Twirl.

The movie classic “American Graffiti,” took the tradition of car cruising to a new level. It was filmed in 1973 but was based on a 1962 high school graduation night. The famous ice cream shoppe was called Mel’s Drive-In. “American Pie” and even “Porkys” had some memorable drive-in scenes that took us all back to a simpler time.

When I was playing in the Roy Hobbs Baseball World Series in Ft. Myers, Florida, I found an ice cream parlor called Lickety Split. Other names that have been mentioned to me include Udder Delights. (Insert your own joke here about Dolly Parton owning it.)

Where else would you find King Cone except in New York City near the Empire State Building? The Big Dipper should be in an open field where there is a clear view of the North Star and the other stars.

To me, the corporate mega-franchises just can’t hold a candle to the original Mom and Pop stores that served as the gathering spots for us. Baskin Robins brags about their 31 flavors. Old folks don’t need 31. We needed only 3 like when we were kids: vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. Some of their flavors sound like they were concocted by a 4-year old putting random words together. “Merry, Berry, Cherry Chunky Monkey Delight.”

Ben and Jerry? (I have a late friend named Ben Gasque and a Destin brother named Jerry Peacock. Conservative views would have kept them out of this company.) Never had their ice cream. Afraid there would be some tree bark in my vanilla from their tree huggers. I heard that you have to take out a loan to purchase a Ben and Jerry cone in California. Dairy Queen tries to maintain a small town feel but comes up short since many of them are located near interstates. Sonic Drive Ins are about as close as we can get if you can overlook their goofy ads.

I know that yankees wouldn’t ask my opinion about opening a Michigan ice cream drive-in. I am available, however, to share a sure-fire money maker in Kalamazoo.

Name it Frost Bites. Serve the ice cream in discarded witch’s brassieres.

Specialize in their favorite flavor: “Yellow Snow.”

Also, add a Pine Float to their order.

Send me the bill.
Forty acres of garlic is pretty strong.