I mentioned to my dad there was a diner open that I wanted to try in the thriving metropolis of Chenango Forks, NY. my mistake was confusing what life and food is like on route 66 with route 12. I know he likes to eat his food early, so I was surprised that he slept in a bit and at 7:30 am he got up, not feeling all too great, but eager for some breakfast. so off we went on a road I don’t remember being on for about 30 years. Here is the gist of the ride:
“when did that building close?”
“about 20 years ago?”
“when did the boy scouts move into that engineering building?”
“oh about 30 years ago”
“what happened to that church that was a craft store”
“I don’t know…there is something new there. I wonder what it is”
that was the few mile drive this morning. the reality is I hadn’t been on that road in 25-30 years.
in my mind, I was all excited as I enjoy the odd nostalgia of what most of the old route 66 in the united states is like. you can always find decent home cooked meals, baked goods combined with what is the nostalgia of the 40’s, 50’. I have many fun and fond memories of the towns that are abandoned and the others on a sort of nostalgic life support that allows a quirky walk back into a time machine of the past. the key is delicious home cooked food.
that is what I was thinking today would be like. that was my mistake. I mean, “route 12 diner” sounds like a cute little space with great food, a warm cup of coffee, perhaps some home-made Cinnaminson rolls with fresh icing. you know, gigantic omelets, hearty plates with eggs and various bacon and sausages procured from the local farms. you know, delicious hearty breakfast fare. right?
we pulled into the parking lot at 8:10 am and there was not a light on in the building. my heart sank as I actually got my dad out to try something different in his life, perhaps find a new place for him to take my mom for a breakfast in town. here was the diner – closed. I went to the door looking for hours of operation, but there was none. just a sign hanging about the daily specials for food.
dad looked at me and started laughing, “maybe they got drunk last night at the bar across the street and they simply are hungover?” was his crack as he looked across the street to one business that is still there that I remember, “davy’s tavern.”
I hope it is something that simple and not anything like a health issue or malady in the folk's lives. maybe the mananna time has gone across the country to the east coast and the diner will open, “whenever.” I will keep you abreast of what the food is like there in the next week. right now my dad is laughing at the entire situation, eating his cereal and having my mom join in ribbing me with trying something new, “so how was the food, dad?”
my dad just almost spit his coffee out on the table when I asked my mom, “so what are you doing for lunch? I hear there is a great diner up the road we can try.”
truth be told, rod serling, creator of the twilight zone grew up here, and I really feel like I am inside an episode of that show this morning. what made it worse is I did google the place to see the hours of operation. I was not insane. it is supposed to open at 7 am.
now I am going to make my coffee here and sit and listen to my mom and dad giggle like little kids away. all I need is a deer or two to come down the hill and join in the laughter.