RoadsideOnline

I finally found Charlie’s Diner!

Well, one of them. And I didn’t really find it, someone found it for me. But let me bask in my success in any case, because discovery is one of the charms of the Mom ‘N Pop Culture.

There was no special magic, mind you, about Charlie’s Diner. My quest had more to do with my destination. At least a few times each year I’d find myself on the way up to the Eastern States Exhibition grounds in West Springfield, Mass., to participate in shows related to the racing-trade. I used to publish a small racing magazine that covered the sport here in New England, you see.

Once the shows started I was a slave to my booth, but after setting up the day before a show I’d have a little time to meander back to my Rhode Island home. What better way to spend a bit of it than by tucking in to lunch at a local diner. Yet I still was a babe in the woods of diner exploration. I’d google "diners" and "Springfield, Mass.," and get a couple of names. And the one that would catch my attention would be Charlie’s, right there in West Springfield.

I just realized I never provided an update on my computer-lesson, as related last month right here in Mom ‘N Pop Culture.

I won’t rehash the details. You can find that a few entries down this blog, so to speak. Suffice it to say my misadventures trying to buy a computer from Sears ended up happily. Gary at Tech Direct in Johnston, RI, set me up with a computer he assembled himself that allowed me to continue using all the software and peripherals I’d been using for years but with higher speed and "enhanced internet capabilities." It’s got a floppy-drive so I can still refer to old articles and stories from time to time. I’m writing this on my faithful old Word Perfect program. I have my printer hooked up through a new-fangled port, the name of which I forgot because stuff like that just isn’t very important to me, and the scanner connected through the old style "parallel printer" port because sooner or later even that uninteresting title got through to my gray matter (See me in about five years for the name of that printer cable).

I even get to keep using my little sports-car mouse, even though it, too, plugs in like an ancient phone (one of which I also still use, as a matter of fact).

I also have a wire running about 40 feet through three rooms and behind my wife’s desk to the "wireless remote" that sits on it. I love the irony of that. Furthermore, Gary advised I avoid the wireless adaptors that previously drove me bonkers if I could, as a cable simply was more reliable. It has been.

No, I didn’t cut up the Sears card. I still like their tools and the store closest to where I work employs these old guys in the tool department who actually know what they’re talking about. Hey, it’s good to see they found work. And Sears gave me a full refund, no questions asked, it’s only fair to report. Of course, as I’d made a payment in the meantime, now they owe me money. Talk about good credit.

Hey! DSL! That was a quick five years!

If you want to live in a walkable community you could do worse than to move to the town of Putnam.

Putnam sits hard against Rhode Island as part of what Connecticut likes to call its "Quiet Corner," the state’s northeastern region. This is a beautiful part of Connecticut, far removed by more than distance from where the state shares the grime and gloom of New York City. The Quiet Corner of Connecticut is made up mostly of rolling rural hills, quaint New England villages, the occasional private boarding school and some of the most scenic roads in America.

It’s easy to imagine that Putnam once was the center of commerce for the region. Its small downtown flanking the Quinebog River is filled with solid brick buildings and surrounded by giant porched and gabled homes, many long-ago subdivided into apartments as prosperity left the town behind.

I like sports. I admit it. One of the most enjoyable things I do is attend sporting events. I'll watch a game on TV, too, but I have a couple of problems with doing that. And not surprisingly, since you're reading this here, my problems relate directly to how far sports-culture today has strayed from Mom 'N Pop culture.

Notice I didn't refer to myself as a sports fan. That's because fan is short for fanatic. I'm not. I don't lose sleep when the local NFL team, the Pats, loses. I don't give a care who's batting cleanup for the Red Sox. I don't proclaim "We need more hitting." Yeah, maybe they do. I've got plenty.

All this talk about doing business with small shops in the community and dealing with the owner of the business who’s the person actually providing the product or service and being able to look that person in the eye and getting what you want because of the personal commitment to be found there...

And then I go and buy a computer from Sears.

Let it be a lesson to me.

All I wanted to do was put something on my Sears Charge. It’s the only charge-card I own, and I hardly use it. I keep it so I have some recourse if we need some appliance or something in an emergency and don’t have the cash to cough up. But I’d paid off the new washing machine, and hearing all about maintaining my credit and all I figured I needed something on it or they were going to tell me to go away. And I’d decided that with my new gig for Roadside a computer a little more modern than my current steam-driven unit might be a good idea.