My Hometown

My Hometown

The Hardware Store

As I wander aimlessly around Lowe’s looking for someone to help me find the shelving units, I feel so lost in such a big store.

I usually go to the smaller Ace Hardware, but that was two miles out of my way and I convinced myself that I didn’t have that kind of time to drive all the way across town.

But the hardware store wasn’t always something that I rushed through.

In fact, it used to be one of the things that I looked the most forward to as a kid.

My dad was a good, hard worker, but handy work wasn’t really in his wheelhouse, so whenever a trip to Jack’s Hardware was in the plans that was grandpa’s department.

Grandpa and Jack were long time buddies, and although I’m sure that my grandpa visited the store at least once a week, I got to go with him every so often and it was always a special trip.

Oh, but not for the hardware; I’m blessed with dad’s skills when it comes to that.

The front widow of Jack’s was stocked with rack after rack of model cars and I knew that when grandpa let me tag along, getting a model car was happening.

I looked through them all when Grandpa moseyed around the store.

Jack would tell me stories about the cars; I learned about the 1957 Chevy Bel Air, he taught me all about the muscle cars of the 1960’s and 70’s, and he talked Nascar racing with me as I looked at the stock car options.

But these trips always ended the same way.

Grandpa and Jack reminiscing and swapping their best car stories in hopes that I would grab one of their favorites for my next model; only to hang their head when I’d grab another film car from the shelve whether it was the General Lee or the Firebird Trans-Am that Burt Reynolds made famous in Smokey and the Bandit.

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