Ah, yes. The little corner grocery stores. I used to live with my grandma and grandpa. What a great time. We knew all the neighbors and it was so cool. I could walk next door and sit on the porch and talk with the elderly couple living there. Now, mind you, I was only six. The corner grocery store was three blocks away...an eternity...but we walked there and bought our groceries. We had a running tab which was paid monthly. The store owner would give me a lollipop from time to time--a wonderful gift, greatly appreciated. I moved away two years later, but I returned for a two week visit every summer. Eventually, a R&W root beer stand came to that little community...across the street from the grocery. Again, we all knew the owners' names. They, too, were neighbors. "Champ" was a great guy. He wore a white hat and tended the outdoor "bar." For a treat, we'd take fifty cents and sit on stools under an overhang,eat a coney dog and drink an ice cold frosted mug of root beer. Back then, parents weren't afraid to let their kids walk the streets of the neighborhood, and if one of us got into trouble, there was no hiding it. The entire community knew.
Everyone worked hard, and no one had credit cards. There was no stigma to keep up with the neighbors. People had backyard gardens and shared/swapped their food. I'm all for progress, but I don't like what it's done to us on a personal level. Maybe that's why I write stories set in small rural communities.
We're on the verge of a new way of life. Time will tell what direction it takes. I worry for my grandchildren, but I suppose my grandparents worried for me. Hmmm, perhaps they were right to worry.
Thanks for stopping by.