Where everybody really knew your name

ROBERT GARDNER

My favorite drink of the last few years has been rum and Coke, and I

don’t mean rum and Diet Coke or rum and caffeine-free Coke. Rum and

Coke, full strength, right out of the large plastic bottle or

aluminum can.

Now I don’t object to these Coke containers at all. They’re easy

to open, easy to dispose of, and best of all, if I drop one, I don’t

end up skittering around in my bare feet trying to avoid broken

glass. I am all for convenience, particularly when it’s associated

with my drinking. However, in the old days, ordering a Coke was a

very different thing.

I don’t think anyone under 80 probably remembers what I’m going to

talk about. It’s something as extinct as the Great Auk or the Carrier

Pigeon. It was once something that was a vital part of every small

town, and that is the local soda fountain. Nothing quite like it

exists today.

For many years I worked at our local soda fountain in Balboa, the

Green Dragon. I started chipping ice and eventually worked my way up

to short order cook.

At that time, of course, canned Cokes hadn’t been invented.

Bottled Cokes were available, but no one ordered a bottle of Coke at

the fountain. Instead, you got a cherry Coke (the most popular) or a

lemon Coke or a vanilla Coke or a chocolate Coke. The soda jerk

pushed a plunger, splashed some Coke into one of those fluted Coke

glasses, then just a shot of cherry, lemon, etc., and for a nickel

you could nurse that rascal for an hour while you talked to others at

the counter. Some people even drank ammonia Cokes. That I remember

vividly because the first one that I prepared I put household ammonia

in it instead of spirits of ammonia and nearly killed the poor guy

who ordered it.

If you were flush, you might spring for an ice cream soda -- a

scoop of ice cream, the flavoring (pineapple and chocolate were the

favorites), then soda water from a gadget that came up from the

counter like a beer spigot and gave it the fizz.

Now, I realize there are places like Ruby’s where you can get ice

cream sodas and flavored Cokes, but it’s not the same. Ruby’s is a

place where you go to eat. The old soda fountain was the social and

cultural center of the town. Everyone went to the soda fountain -- to

meet, to gossip and to have a Coke.

I suppose a coffee house is somewhat reminiscent of that --

offering a place to meet and gossip -- but in the old days, there was

only the one soda fountain. If you wanted to talk to someone, you

knew that if you hung around the Green Dragon long enough he’d show

up.

The problem with coffee houses is that there’s one on every

corner. There are almost as many coffee houses as rug shops in Corona

del Mar, and that’s a lot of coffee. You could go into one of those

places and wait the rest of your life and not run into someone you

knew. Not a problem for me because I don’t like coffee but a problem

for someone who says, “Meet me at Starbucks.” Which one?

Of course, Newport isn’t a small town anymore. Even the villages

aren’t small towns anymore. It’s unrealistic to think that there

could be one site that would serve the purpose of the old soda

fountain, so it’s just as well there are all these other places.

Meanwhile, I’m quite content making my drink with my easy-open,

easy-dispose, plastic bottle of Coke. And while I’m at it, here’s a

toast to the automatic ice maker, as well.

* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge.

His column runs Tuesdays.