A BIGDoer classic from 2016, about ice cream and the dreams of a little kid. Here’s a rare look inside our lives and for a short time when I (Chris) was about seven or so, me and my family lived in Nelson BC just across from a Dairy Queen. One of those old school stand-alone, walk-in Dairy Queens.
Our home at this time was some flea-bag, dive motel and that tiny little shack looking thing in back, on the left side over my shoulder in the photo of me, was our unit. The step-dad was a career petty criminal (have cheque book, will travel) and we often lived on the road, out of the car or we crashed at cheap rooming houses, the law and those he swindled always in hot pursuit.
A sibling and I would often stare longingly across the street towards that temple of ice cream, broken-hearted knowing the folks only had money for other things. So booze or smokes, but little else. Living near a DQ as a kid, but being denied on account of certain lifestyle choices of those entrusted as our parents, was pure torture.
Stand there, stare, hope, pray, scour the ground for loose change. Nothing. The dream was not a terribly big one and even a lowly cone would do, but it seemed unreachable. Hang your head, shuffle back in and watch Bugs Bunny with my sister, while the folks drank themselves into a stupor. Yet again.
Fast forward to the summer of 2016 and we got some gigs in the Nelson area. Driving by, heads turn…the old motel, it’s still there…the Dairy Queen too! Connie, knowing the story, shouts “stop…ICE CREAM!” It’s been forty five years and now it’s time. Hard brake, jump out excitedly, grab a shake. Connie’s paying! That’s little me smiling and satisfied. Got my Dairy Queen…
Short Subjects: Reports a few paragraphs in length and brief in nature. Think silly little snippets, vignettes and things of that sort. You’ll be in and out in no time.
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