Kay's sounds like one of those local treasures that will go on as long as she does. And that, even as a shadow of its (her) former (younger) self, it's still quite amazing. Back in the '50s, my parents used to take us on Sunday drives through all the little towns in Erie and Crawford and who-knew-what-other counties and, often as not, we'd end up someplace like Kay's for dessert, if not lunch or dinner.
That was before TV was the entertainment of choice and, anyway, my parents were just a pair of small-town kids who did what they'd always enjoyed doing on a Sunday afternoon after church. My twin sisters hated it and I loved it - I think I was old enough that the passing scenery, the small towns, the countryside, had become my TV but they took their displeasure out on each other. Which meant that, long before it became a stock gag line on television, we were used to hearing, "Don't make me stop this car," LOL.
After a while, either because they had a little more disposable income or were just tired of listening to my sisters, they settled on a local smorgasbord in Belle Valley called "A Little Bit of Sweden." As I recall, it was sort of upscale-country with starched tablecloths and fancily-folded cloth napkins and gauzy white curtains that fluttered when the wind blew because the open windows were what provided ventilation and air conditioning. And yeah, sometimes it's hard not to think that "those were the days..."
That was before TV was the entertainment of choice and, anyway, my parents were just a pair of small-town kids who did what they'd always enjoyed doing on a Sunday afternoon after church. My twin sisters hated it and I loved it - I think I was old enough that the passing scenery, the small towns, the countryside, had become my TV but they took their displeasure out on each other. Which meant that, long before it became a stock gag line on television, we were used to hearing, "Don't make me stop this car," LOL.
After a while, either because they had a little more disposable income or were just tired of listening to my sisters, they settled on a local smorgasbord in Belle Valley called "A Little Bit of Sweden." As I recall, it was sort of upscale-country with starched tablecloths and fancily-folded cloth napkins and gauzy white curtains that fluttered when the wind blew because the open windows were what provided ventilation and air conditioning. And yeah, sometimes it's hard not to think that "those were the days..."
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Funny how those old memories can be so sweet.
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