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Sorry, Just Flashed Back To 1966 For A Second
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Personal note: I grew up in Wayne, NJ, a suburb about 20 miles west of New York, and there are few things I remember about Wayne that I recall fondly. One of the few was the local-legendary Old Barn Milk Bar, where everyone -- I mean, EVERYONE -- went for ice cream. It was NOT the best ice cream around. They didn't even make their own. But they gave you massive scoops, and it was the atmosphere that made it special, a literal old barn in an out-of-the-way spot along Hamburg Turnpike that you'd stand outside eating your drippy, sloppy cone with Little League teams and soccer moms with their kids and businessmen and everyone else in town. The guy who started and owned the place just died, and reading the obit was the first time I've thought about the Old Barn since I bolted from Wayne for Philly a long, long time ago. It also revealed that the place closed years ago and there's a Quick Chek on the site, and that says a lot about how times have changed, not necessarily for the better. The townspeople aren't gathering around a Quick Chek on a hot summer's night, eating ice cream and hanging out with each other. Maybe if it was a Wawa, they would, but not a Quick Chek. (Bergen Record)
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