At the end of the night John, who owned the ’59 Ford that carried us around on Friday and Saturday nights if we bought the gas, always made a stop at Big Boy to see who was out tonight (plus John had a crush on the little red haired carhop although he never said anything to her other than, “can I have extra sauce?”). It was always the same. The guy in the white ’62 Chevy convertible next to the kitchen entrance, the four girls in the blue Buick sedan halfway down the line, the basketball player and his girlfriend in the Plymouth station wagon, the two girls in the brown Falcon and the two guys in the red Chevy two door who drove round and round Big Boy but never pulled in. The same Big Boys, french fries or onion rings and Cokes. The same songs on the radio and the same carhops staring off into space waiting for you to decide what you wanted before you ordered the same thing you always got. It was the place to be. Sometimes, even though it’s been closed for decades, when I drove past the old Big Boy drive-in I could still see it.
Then not too long ago I saw crews starting to remodel the building. Slowly but surely the building changed into a very modern structure. It looks really nice but is it ready to pull the ’62 Chevy and the blue Buick sedan back in? Will John’s little red haired carhop sweetheart be back? How about the guys in the Ford pickup who used to throw french fries from the back of the truck when they pulled out? I really think it just might. I think the owners have come across the right formula to pull everyone back in and that we will see many if not most of the classes of the 1960s. This time the music is going to be different and everyone will be inside. Same location and the same building, now remodeled, but this time no Big Boys.
The Big Boy name is gone too but then the name wasn’t what attracted us anyway. It was Big Boy then and we came and now it’s Craciun Berry Funeral Home and we’ll come again.
Ah, the circle of life.
Please flash your lights for service.