Back in the old days when we lived on 12th street in the Burg of Somers, WI, you could always run down the street. No, not to get in trouble behind the post office, but to the store.
The Superette. Run by Vera. Yes. Click on that.
Laurie got her nickname there, ("Hey, some Pee Wee girl is lookin' for you!") often walking me down there my little hand in hers. I think Brother Dan got gas for his dirt bike there, maybe smokes? I got comics fresh off the spinner rack (including the amazing "Untold Origins of the Batman" limited series).
Linda always got the Torpedo sandwich. Often while wearing a denim jacket with a Dr. Pepper patch stitched on the back.
We all bought Jolly Good soda and bomb pops out of the freezer that vibrated on the wooden floors, wooden floors that clunked with hollowness as you tread upon it. If the Graboids from the movie "Tremors" were about, we'd all have been mincemeat.
Who can forget those zany Terrara Pan candies: Boston Baked Beans, Jaw Breakers, Lemon Heads. Back then, just ten cents at the Superette.
But what I went to the Superette for was this: It tasted delicious, because it was two of the greatest things god created. It was 12" long, and was braided caramel and chocolate.
True bang for your buck. The marathon Bar.
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