FRIDAY NIGHT SHENANIGANS IN SMALL TOWNS

Well, of course this isn't downtown Souris in the 60's but it's a reasonable facsimile. "Artificial Intelligence" is good for something, even if it's just for generating fake photos. For some people AI is nothing to be scared of, indeed there are many practical uses.

But today's generation is missing something, something profound and deeply embedded in our memories. In mine at least.

The thrill of a trip to Souris on Friday evening for groceries and sundries.....if I close my eyes, I can still see it. And hear it. And smell it. And of course in the late 60's and early 70s it was the same in all small towns. Dads were at work all week, Moms were at home, and Friday would typically be payday. It was pretty much the same everywhere, not just Souris.

And of course, none of this applied to me, since I didn't have parents. Momma was at the head of our little family, with no car, no resources, and we still marvel at her ability to have raised us all.

She had a couple of her adult children living nearby who would take her shopping when they could and she depended largely on her neighbors old Pete Carpenter and Earl Roach. They always had a car and lots of time, and I remember more than once being allowed to go along. And it wasn't much longer of course, that Jamie came along, and then Darrell and Butch and I were driving, and all this became a moot point.

But it was like the hand of God coming down when we were allowed to go, with many a warning to be seen and not heard. And she wasn't fooling.

No worries, we were usually gobsmacked.

There seemed to be a large number of gas stations and little general stores, with of course the old Souris Co-op, back before it burned. Larter's Pharmacy was always lit up and just glittering, and if it happened to be handy Christmas, well, we couldn't be contained!

Momma would ask to be dropped off at the Co-op and then we would walk across to Larter's.

One of my early life lessons was to do as Momma said without question. And let's just say, lessons in human reproduction and sexual health were pretty much nil in our house, and I was probably only 9 or 10 at the time, and mesmerized by the big city lights. And the mile-long chocolate bar counter, placed strategically at eye level for kids.......

And down another whole aisle was this big long row of the prettiest cardboard boxes, pink, blue and yellow, with the big letters "KOTEX" emblazoned on the front, with a pretty lady on each one.

I asked Momma, "What are these?" in a pretty innocent little voice.

Well, Momma flipped out as only Momma could do, and only those who knew her or remember her, would get it. She had very little patience in the best of circumstances, and absolutely none on this evening.

"Shut up! Shut up! Jesus! That's the last time you're coming to Souris!"

And of course it was for a while. It was never mentioned again, and it was a missed opportunity for Momma to gently introduce the topic of growing up, sex education and the birds and the bees. But it was always a taboo subject in our house, and I don't honestly know how any of us ever had the courage to ask any questions. How in God's name did we grow up? Was everyone's experience the same, parents too nervous or ashamed somehow at talking about such a natural topic? I'll never know. I guess we just absorbed it by osmosis, by listening in on grown up conversations, or being given bits of information from older siblings or cousins. Or overhearing kids at school. And we all grew up anyway.

And little did I know that just a few short years later, that pharmacy would give me my first job, and all would be revealed....

But the growing up part was tough.

There was always a stop at the Clover Farm for groceries, and sometimes a stop at the old Snack Bar. Not for a snack of course, but she'd pick up her smokes and magazines there, and usually a comic book for me. How I loved them! "Little Lotta" "Casper" and a little later on, "The Archies!!" And sometimes Momma would tell the odd story or drop a little information, like, "Your mother worked here for a little while."

And somehow that made me feel closer to the absent parent in my life. I knew she was alive but didn't live with us.

That was tough too.

Momma's banking affairs would be done during other times of course, the CIBC wasn't open on Friday nights, but no trip for goods was complete without a stop for gas (God I always loved the smell of gas) and one last stop in Rollo Bay, on the way home, at Deveau's Grocery. Momma would climb up the steps and in short order come back out with a few parcels wrapped in crisp brown paper and tied with string, added to her bill, which she paid off promptly on cheque day.

Some cheese, bologna, some pork chops maybe. Always something good.

But this was before the school consolidations, before regular bus drives. It was a way of life in the country, where many businesses closed on Wednesdays to give staff a day off, because the stores had to stay open on Friday nights and at least Saturday mornings, to give customers a chance to stock up on essentials to run their houses. A trip to town on Friday nights......................heavenly. No seat belts and no rules so I'd stand on the back seat to see better, or just stand up behind the front seat and play with Momma's hair.

The rumble of the old Souris West Bridge.

The first glimpse of the old Cannon pointed down the street, right about where the PetroCan parking lot is now. Today it's upstreet somewhere; its fate is being decided.

The enticing smells on the street from Chaisson's Restaurant, even though it would most often be closed at this time of day. Up to that point, I'd never even had a french fry, that would come later.

Many families operated the same way, or something similar. Years later when Jamie went to work at The Buttercup Dairy, they closed at lunch every Wednesday so Kenny and Sybil could get their business done. It doesn't seem that long ago............

If we could turn back the clock like Michael J. Fox in "Back to the Future" what changes we'd see. Not all of them good, but not all of them bad either.

A few years later I was a teenager in the 70s, what an awesome time to be alive! As soon as someone in our group had a driver's license, we'd be driving the strip. Up Main Street and down again. Across the Bridge to the Fina, turn around and drive back up Main Street to turn around about where the Liquor Store is now, or the Shell. Or what used to be the Shell, because, of course, it's long gone, and so is the Fina. (Remember Bing??)

Lots of you out there know what I'm talking about. Our boyfriends would always have a few dollars for some fries or an ice cream, or whatever. If they had no money, well, we'd make our own entertainment, if you catch my drift............It's the way it was. We were in no danger, we were with all our friends, doing the same thing, driving up and down until it was time to go home. We might pull into the Port O'Call, their chicken was legendary or pop in to see Aggie at the Fina, oh my god, what a cook!

It's hard to imagine a more innocent growing up, but I think those days are behind us now. And how my grandkids would laugh if they could have seen the teenaged Nova. Those skin tight bell bottoms and layered T-shirts. We all thought we were so cool.

Perhaps those old memories are best preserved right where they are. In my mind.

But I can still hear the ringing in my little ears, "Shut up! Shut up!! Jesus!"