My ‘better half’ thinks I need a reality check. I fear it’ll show insufficient funds in the account. We were driving to Narragansett Pier in late February, taking advantage of the unseasonably mild weather and I couldn’t help but notice the windshield has iced up – on the inside. So I asked, “What’s wrong?”

She responds “Nothing” – which translates to “I’ll spill my guts eventually, but first you have to endure the husband's obligatory three hours of silent Hell”.

Two hours later (she’s softening with age – like fruit) she says, “I can’t believe you told our new neighbors that you went to see Phantom at Loews Theater. It hasn’t been a movie theater since Cranston had a balanced budget.”

She continued, “And it’s not bad enough that YOU live in ‘la-la land’ but I overheard your grandson tell his friend that grandpa is taking him to ride the dobbie horses on the Oakland Beach Midway this weekend. Where are you taking him after that – Rocky Point?”

She must think I’m stupid. Everyone knows the Park doesn’t open until Memorial Day. I mean, Hell, it takes them at least three weeks just to fill the pool.

“And while we’re on the subject I have a news flash for you. You won’t be getting your fertilizer this Spring at Ann & Hope Garden Shop . . . because it’s gone!

At this point I’m feeling a bit light headed.

“If you don’t believe me check the yellow pages. It should be listed just before Atlantic Mills. While you’re looking, try to get me the numbers for Nyanza and Warwick Shoppers World.”

Her smirk tells me all I need to know. My head’s pounding but I remember we’re out of aspirin.

“I’m going to Adams Drug for aspirin. We DO still have Adams I assume? I know we do because Salty Brine does the radio ads.”

It’s obvious my cockiness has annoyed her because she caustically responds, “Listen Rip Van Winkle, I don’t know how to tell you. But Salty isn’t . . . I mean Salty hasn’t been on the . . . .”

I shriek like a cat with his ass in a lawn mower. “NOOOOO!”

When I come to I’m looking up at my 28 year old daughter. I don’t know how to break the news to her. “Honey, Ann & Hope are gone. Warwick, Cumberland – both gone.”

“I thought mom’s aunts lived in Florida?”

“The STORES honey! – Ann & Hope, both gone.”

“Daddy, the last time we went there was to buy my first training bra.”

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“You know those two great stores would still be in business if all you kids didn’t keep running off to the damn Midland Mall.”

Her sweet smile seems to say “You’re right daddy” with a hint of “You poor pathetic bastard”.

I’m reluctant to ask her my burning question, but I have to know. “Honey, when was the last time you heard Salty . . . . . on the radio?”

“I don’t know daddy, I think it was the summer I got my braces.”

Later, sitting at my workbench alone in the cellar, I regain my composure. I sip the can of Coors and relax. Funny, I can’t remember why I switched brands. Maybe ‘cause I can’t find a six pack of ‘Gansett anywhere – weird, don’t you think?

Anyway, the solitude (and the Coors) helps me regain my composure. I mean I love my family, but I gotta say – it’ll be a cold day in Hell before I take them back to Custy’s for the buffet. And if my wife thinks we’re going to the Warwick Tent for summer stock than she’s the one who’s crazy.

Given the recent marital friction I think we need a cooling off period. So I’m calling my buddy to see if he’s going to the Reds game Sunday night at the Auditorium on North Main St. I think we’re playing Hershey.

I call my friend about the game. He laughs hysterically, says we’re playing Springfield, and he’ll pick me up at 6:00 in the brand new Ford Galaxie 500 he just bought – complete with eight track cassette player. His response is puzzling – I thought he was strictly a Chevy man.

Oh well, thoughts of the game lift my spirits. Hey, after the hockey season, clam cakes and chowder at ‘RP’ can’t be far behind, RIGHT?

About the author, J. Elijah Bray: J. Elijah Bray (probably not his real name) lives on The East Side but is most proud of being raised in Oakland Beach – go figure.

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