Looking back over my life, times and food have changed drastically. I remember TVs with three channels, and telephones fastened securely on the kitchen wall.And, I remember eating homecooked meals around a kitchen table.
Growing up on a plot of ground just a little over an acre, a yearly activity was the planning and planting of a garden. Much of the summer we enjoyed the fresh produce it provided, and the excess was canned or frozen for eating throughout the coming winter.
I was probably around ten or twelve years old when we were on our way to church, and noticed a prominent sign on a piece of ground that had recently been cleared to make way for something big. It announced that a new place to acquire food was coming soon. The picture promised that it would be a ‘Happy Place’.
My siblings and I weren’t too excited because we knew there were a few other places in town where one could place a food order, then wait for it to be delivered to the car, and that is where it would be eaten. The food was not quite as good as freshly grown, and it was much more expensive. Thus we only experienced this type of dining while on vacation. As weeks passed, the new place began drawing more attention. It promised lower prices, and it’s architecture was different from the norm—it was going to sport huge yellow arches.
The day came that this new food place opened. Customers had options—they could eat inside at tables, or they could drive up to a window, pick up the order, and take it home to eat. The concept caught on. It was quick, convenient, and not too expensive. Soon there were Golden Arches popping up in other parts of the city, then, across our country, and not too many years later, across most countries of the world.
After I left home, my mother and father took a cross-country trip. I discovered that my mother, who usually insisted on good, healthy food, had surrendered to the convenience of quick food, that was ready when she was. On this trip she kept a little notebook in the car and kept a record of all the Golden Arches places they had stopped at along the way—she insisted you could count on them to have clean restrooms and good coffee. She made note of the service, the cleanliness, and tastiness of the food. When she got back home she sent her little report to the Golden Arches headquarters. They thanked her and provided a number of coupons for future travels.
I guess I should not have been too judgmental of my mother because years later while living in another country, my husband and I drove nearly an hour—more than once—to eat at the restaurant that displayed the bright yellow arches. It was a taste of home we could count on.
While I would not pick this particular restaurant for Sunday dinner or a date night, there is something comforting, even thrilling, about seeing those stately arches when traveling a long way from home. So, next time you are far from home, searching for clean rest rooms and a good cup of coffee, look for Golden Arches. They should be near by.