ConNiPtioNs

Red Pop

It was a hot late summer day in the 1970s. My brother and I were perfoming our bi-weekly duty of washing the gold 1972 Chevrolet Impala while my dad and the neighbor sat on the porch listening to Harry Kalas and Richie Ashburn calling the Phillies game on the transistor radio.

On this day my dad decided to send us to the neighborhood corner store for sodas. "Here's five dollars," he said "bring me the change." Usually he would walk to store with us, but this time he sent my brother and me by ourselves. So, off we went, with Abe Lincoln in hand, the three blocks to the store seemed like miles back then. We picked up horsechestnuts along the way, peeling open the green prickly shells to reveal the shiny brown buckeyes inside.

When we reached the store we pushed open the heavy green door which slammed behind us ringing the bell. This place was a kid's dream. There was a Hershey's ice cream freezer, shelf upon shelf of Taskykakes and behind the glass display case was every type of candy that you can imagine -- Swedish fish, string licorice, bottlecaps, etc. After checking out all of the possiblities we make our decision - a big bottle of Red Pop. So we tell the shopkeeper we want two 16 ounce Pepsis (one for dad and one for the neighbor) and a bottle of Red Pop for us.

The man handed the change to me and the paper bag with the three cold sodas to my little brother and we started home in the heat and humidity. We couldn't wait to get home so dad can use the bottle opener on our purchase. This was a real treat for us, we usually had only iced tea or Hi-C at home, but this was a first for us.

At about the halfway point the unthinkable happened--the three bottles came crashing through the bottom of the bag which was by this time soaked from the condensation on the cold bottles. All three bottles lay lifeless and broken on the hot sidewalk. A mixture of Pepsi and Red Pop stained our Keds and Dr. J tube socks.

As we made our way way home we were dreading telling our dad what happened. We approached the porch with frightened looks on our faces. "What's wrong," he said, "is the store closed?" We explained what happened. He wasn't angry, he just said "next time carry the bag with your hand on the bottom. Let's go make some Kool Aid."