as some were called back then) within walking distance of my home. Each pharmacy

had much to offer a boy in the late '50s and '60s.

During the lazy days of summer, me, my brother, and my friends would often walk

to a pharmacy for one of the main staples of our lives; comic books, baseball

cards, candy, or a snowball.

Back in those days, there wasn't a snowball stand on every corner as there is

Thankfully, the closest pharmacy also had the best snowballs. It was a place

called The Alameda Pharmacy. It was the hub of the smaller half of a shopping

center divided by a road. The soda fountain took up the back left hand side

of the store. It had round green cushioned plastic revolving stools surrounding

it. The stools had no armrests or backs and would get notoriously slick from

perspiration and spilled drinks. Quite often, one of our gang would simply slide

off of one and land embarrassingly butt first on the tile floor. Spinning on

one, on a hot summer afternoon, was suicidal.  There were also a few booths for

the less daring patrons.

The snowballs didn't cost much, I think they were a quarter, and it was a good

thing because they were served in a funnel shaped cup. What a gyp that was! The

farther you went down in the cup, the smaller it got. By the time you got to all

juice, there was maybe a thimble full left, and that was if you were lucky. More

often than not, much like a dixie cup, the thin waxy paper would begin to

unravel and leak out of the bottom, forcing the boy or girl to bend their neck

back and hold the leaky container over there open mouth until all the juice

drained.

The other problem was that they were top heavy and had to be balanced with

delicate precision. One false move and the entire upper ice shelve would be on

the pavement.. It was such a problem that the women behind the counter would ask

that we crush down the treats with our plastic spoons outside the premises lest 

the soda fountain area look like the aftermath of an iceberg explosion.

For some strange reason, my favorite flavors back then were lemon and spearmint.

A couple of years ago I tried a spearmint flavored snowball and almost gagged on

it.

We would walk to another pharmacy a little farther away called The Medical

Center. The soda fountain there wasn't as large, but, man, did they serve a

wicked vanilla malted milk shake.

Whenever I went there, which was probably at least twice a week during the

summer, I'd get the milk shake. Unlike the snowballs, I always felt I got my

money's worth out of the milk shake. They were a bit more than the snowballs,

but they would come to the counter in a large aluminum container. Depending on

who your server was, you could get as much as two full glasses out of it.

The gang and I also liked coca-cola but, when ordered at the soda fountain, they

had to be flavored. Back then you had three basic choices, vanilla, cherry, and

chocolate. I wasn't that fond of chocolate flavored cokes, so I would usually

alternate between vanilla and cherry. Don't let anybody tell you that they

tasted the same as the store bought brands of today. They didn't. They had a

much stronger syrupy flavor. Man, were they good.

As much as I don't want to, I have to bring up another flavor our gang would

order. Ammonia. That's right, we would drink ammonia flavored cokes. Don't ask

me why. I certainly don't know why we drank them and I'm sure my friends didn't

either. I suspect that we thought that anything that tasted that bad would give

you a quick high. Maybe we heard it somewhere. Well anyhow, it was an awful

concoction that first cleared your sinuses and later your digestive track. The

weird thing is we continued to order them in lieu of tastier fare much to the

amusement of the counter workers.

It's possible that we might have ordered food on occasion from the soda

fountains that we frequented, but, if so, the meal was too unmemorable to

recall. I only remember the snowballs, the malted milkshakes, and the flavored

cokes. Oh, and by the way, I don't allow ammonia based cleaners in my house.