Disarranging Mine: A Journal


Wednesday, July 17, 2002

10:37 p.m.

The head returns tomorrow after two weeks away from the office. It was a wonderful ride while it lasted, but tomorrow I'll pay for it.

An advanced Google search for "homeier dairy", and/or "homeiers dairy", and/or "homeier's dairy" which Google somehow redirects to a search for "homer's dairy", did not turn up any results.

Where am I heading with this?

Oh, yeah. A little trip down memory lane.

When I was a child, there was a dairy about four blocks from my house. It was called Homeier's Dairy. As far as I know, there was no other place like Homeier's in town.

It wasn't a dairy farm. It was a small square brick building with about four parking spaces in the parking lot. It was a little store. It sold penny candy and some school supplies, including the long forgotten peechies. It sold a small assortment of grocery items, including milk in bottles, cottage cheese, and prepackaged ice cream.

The best thing about Homeier's was the counter. The counter was Formica and chrome. There were about ten little stools at the counter that you could swivel all the way around in.

At the counter, you could get a little dish of cottage cheese and peaches. You could get Cokes, including real cherry Cokes, real vanilla Cokes, and real chocolate Cokes. The ice was crushed by hand. You could get root beer floats and brown cows. You could get a dish of ice cream. You could get sundaes and banana splits. And, you could get handmade milk shakes and malts (or as some folks say, malteds).

My dad came home for lunch every day. He got paid every Friday. Sometimes, on payday, in the summers he would give my brother and me each a quarter as an allowance. He always made the proviso that it was okay to spend our allowance, as long as we saved part of it. My brother almost always put his quarter in his piggy bank. I, on the other hand, as soon as my dad left to go back to work, hightailed it over to Homeier's.

Old man Homeier was always so happy to see me. Usually I would get a chocolate shake. Sometimes, if I was feeling a little extravagant, I would splurge on the chocolate malt. The shake was 20 cents. The malt was 25 cents.

It was a very sad day for me when Homeier's closed. The building is still there, but now it's a little church.

I still have dreams about Homeier's Dairy, but in my dreams, it's a couple blocks further down the road.

last updated: in the streets of San Francisco

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L.M. Carnes 2002.

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