Dairy Queen, zen in a cone.

As you may or may not know the Ganger is from the south.  I like that about myself.  I like to think I can fit in just about anywhere I choose, and I had a great many assumptions about moving up north.  When we did come up here we did not end up living in the town we thought we would instead we moved a couple of towns over and fell in love with Marlborough.  In Marlborough not only were we able to get a nice sized town home for what a tiny apartment cost in Natick, but we crushed an assumption.  Small towns are not found just in the south, in fact the quintessential small town has been spotted up here more than in the south.  

Marlborough has a lot of things that make it great to me, but the icing on the cake, the cherry on top, the friggin red white and blue fireworks that spell out ‘Merica!!! For me is the fact that they have a Dairy Queen.  We have them in Tennessee, but it has been a very long time since I have seen a proper Dairy Queen.  I’m a nostalgia and history junkie so get ready…(I am also a junk foodie under the right circumstances, usually combined with those two factors.) 

Dairy Queen, in my opinion, should meet some standards.  

1. Have almost no parking.

2. Serve little to no actual food.

3. You should be able to walk there.

4.  It must close in the winter.

When these places hit in 1940 it was a big deal.  Get that image in your head, there were soldiers in WWII who probably thought about Dairy Queen from their fox hole.  There may not have been many, but when you miss home you miss little stuff.  We have a Dairy Queen back home but it is a friggin eatery.  It is an utter abomination. 

   More food on the menu than anything.  We get here and there is a beat up little building with windows in the front that serves ice cream! To top it all off they added one food item this year, hot dogs, ‘Merica on a bun, and the town went nuts.  Excellent, this is as it should be.  Even better this place is only a couple of miles from the house.  This is a thing we do now, we eat dinner, and every so often we throw on our converse and stroll to the Dairy Queen.  We order ice cream something’s and we eat them there.  We walk home.  End of story.  Clean family time.

People say America has no culture? EAT ME.  This is a part of it.  Love it or hate it Dairy Queen when found in this form is small town America.  It is the 50s coming back for a visit.  I swear I’d go three times a week if that dude would blare 50s music on the speakers.  To make it beyond awesome the owner hires high school kids during the summer and allows them to collect tips for a certain school cause.  Last year it was the bands trip to the capital.  

This little slice of heaven reminds me it’s not so bad.  It may sound stupid to you, but to me it is a beacon in the dark.   

Hrolf the Ganger.  

   

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