Life as we know it was revolutionized by the invention of the television. As the black and white boxes invaded American living rooms in the 1950’s, we began to see a whole new world of possibilities unfold before our very eyes. Dinner was served on tin trays with a side of American Bandstand and Aunt Ruth could now buy all the cat sweaters she wanted with a quick phone call.
It really was the best of times. I can remember going over to my grandparent’s house, wearing my TV tees and sitting transfixed for hours. Everything was done up like Sunday night was a holiday. Grandma would pick up dinner sausages from the Bay Harbor Butcher Shoppe and Grandpa would invite over all of his buddies from his weekly Card Game of Thrones. Those guys certainly were an interesting bunch.
One of the men founded the J.P. Chemistry Club with the mayor of our town; turns out it ended up being quite the scandal. Apparently tax-paying citizens don’t appreciate when publically-elected officials are responsible for a town-wide shortage of Mentos and Coca-Cola. I didn’t even know people still ate Mentos, especially those mint-flavored ones.
Oh and then there was the whole Dr. Who Phone Booth incident. Last May during the annual Cherry Festival parade, the phone booth mysteriously disappeared. The only thing left in its wake was a stack of beakers and a charred Bunsen burner with the Chemistry Club logo on them. As you can imagine, people were talking. Small towns are like that.
Luckily everything calmed down rather quickly and life went back to chaos as usual. The Chemistry Club disbanded publically, but between you and me, I’m pretty sure they still meet every full moon at MacLaren’s Pub. You can tell it’s them because of all the TV tees they wear. Grandpa denies it all, but I think he’s just protecting his friend… and well to be honest, he’s probably just too busy watching TV to notice what goes on around here.