LE PORTRAIT MAGAZINE Feb.27.2015 | Page 61

Or like my mother try To find the ham they couldn’t hold. A hot ham does get cold. Grampa, monster of malevolence, I’m told was actually a rare old-fashioned gentleman of courtly benevolence. At night the thing to do was drive to Pevely Dairy And park and watch the fountain shooting up and changing colors. The child sat in the back, finishing his ice-cream soda, Sucking the straw in the empty glass as a noisy coda. Sometimes on Sunday they drove to the Green Parrot. There was the sideways-staring parrot to stare at. The chickens running around were delicious fried, but nothing was sanitary. B.O. was the scourge of the age—and polio—and bathroom odors. If you didn’t wash your hands, It contributed—as did your glands! His father always had gas for their cars from his royal rationing cards. The little boy went to see the king at one of the king’s coal yards. The two of them took a trip and toured the dad’s wartime coal mine. It was fun. It was fine. 61 Le portrait magazine