It wasn’t planned this way, but today’s been full of Americana, beginning with John Deere tchotchkes. Helma recently visited Johnny Rocket’s and enjoyed the trip down memory lane so much — with its jukeboxes, red vinyl booths, period advertising, dancing, and classic burger joint styling — that I accompanied Helma on her return trip. She emigrated to the United States from Germany in 1961 when the American diner was enjoying great popularity and, at 22 years old, so was Helma.
What else would you order while at a burger joint? (I suppose the above right photo also shows the upshot of too many burger joints.)
The day concluded with a trip to Krispy Kreme near where David and I had lived, to meet a friend. It was the only place I could suggest; I used to zip down there to grab lattes because it was the only place with an espresso machine open after 9 o’clock. I came away with the unmistakable smell of doughnuts on my clothes, the pleasant aroma of familiarity and the warmth of friendship.
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