ws
Friday, May 21, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
The Last Soda Jerk
It was way back in the good old days, way back in the sixties, when the world changed and California went from odd to crazy. That was before Star Wars and its endless (now) Disney-like sagas. It was also before the computer revolution brought the power to type without erasing carbon copies into every home. Way back in the early days, before Al Gore invented the Internet and kids grew up with game boys in their back pockets -- not to mention Pocket Monsters and Digital Monsters. (Don't you hate the eyes of those creatures on TV? I wouldn't even watch the animated Tarzan movie because I thought his eyes were evil.) I remember his face -- full of the chiseling lines of the shaping years (Tolkien), he presided with great authority over a little soda fountain on the south side of Kansas City. It was way south -- 69th or 75th street, the years blur the location. But he was the last person I ever saw who could 'jerk' a soda. We would go to the little drugstore from time to time just for his creations. He has been gone many years now, and isn't it strange that someone four decades later still remembers. I've had some good ice cream sodas in the years since. And there is no frozen custard even close to Ted Drewe's in the southwest part of St. Louis, Missouri; but I am remembering the last soda jerk. He would put in some syrup. Then he would add a little ice cream, stirring the cream into the syrup to chill it. Then the foaming of the soda water and more syrup and ice cream. Last of all he would add the 'fizz' to create the high fluff top that were the 'mark' of all good sodas. I can still see, still taste it -- not quite the food of the gods, but in that direction. I have often wondered how much longer after our years in graduate school the old drug store lasted. Probably a few, even after the last soda jerk fizzed his last fountain creation. The big outfits took over and edged out the little guys -- an old story in our culture of constant consumption. Then, as if to try to reprise the true soda days, some venturesome young entrepreneur tried to re-create the old fountain culture, new shiny stools, slick plastic booths -- but they never caught the art, the reality of that bygone day. It exists only in memory now. All the old ones are gone. But once in a while I want to close my eyes are remember when Cokes were 5 Cents and you could buy a Grapette for a nickel, when burgers were a quarter, and when you could see a real soda jerk work for just twenty five cents.
Bill Spencer
It was way back in the good old days, way back in the sixties, when the world changed and California went from odd to crazy. That was before Star Wars and its endless (now) Disney-like sagas. It was also before the computer revolution brought the power to type without erasing carbon copies into every home. Way back in the early days, before Al Gore invented the Internet and kids grew up with game boys in their back pockets -- not to mention Pocket Monsters and Digital Monsters. (Don't you hate the eyes of those creatures on TV? I wouldn't even watch the animated Tarzan movie because I thought his eyes were evil.) I remember his face -- full of the chiseling lines of the shaping years (Tolkien), he presided with great authority over a little soda fountain on the south side of Kansas City. It was way south -- 69th or 75th street, the years blur the location. But he was the last person I ever saw who could 'jerk' a soda. We would go to the little drugstore from time to time just for his creations. He has been gone many years now, and isn't it strange that someone four decades later still remembers. I've had some good ice cream sodas in the years since. And there is no frozen custard even close to Ted Drewe's in the southwest part of St. Louis, Missouri; but I am remembering the last soda jerk. He would put in some syrup. Then he would add a little ice cream, stirring the cream into the syrup to chill it. Then the foaming of the soda water and more syrup and ice cream. Last of all he would add the 'fizz' to create the high fluff top that were the 'mark' of all good sodas. I can still see, still taste it -- not quite the food of the gods, but in that direction. I have often wondered how much longer after our years in graduate school the old drug store lasted. Probably a few, even after the last soda jerk fizzed his last fountain creation. The big outfits took over and edged out the little guys -- an old story in our culture of constant consumption. Then, as if to try to reprise the true soda days, some venturesome young entrepreneur tried to re-create the old fountain culture, new shiny stools, slick plastic booths -- but they never caught the art, the reality of that bygone day. It exists only in memory now. All the old ones are gone. But once in a while I want to close my eyes are remember when Cokes were 5 Cents and you could buy a Grapette for a nickel, when burgers were a quarter, and when you could see a real soda jerk work for just twenty five cents.
Bill Spencer
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
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