After we left Lebanon in disgrace, we went to Juvie, which I have detailed at length in previous entries. That came to an end one day with a tale which Granny likes to recount every so often. Me, my brother, and Dad were visiting Granny Bernadette at her home on Cherokee Trace. We were discussing the situation at Juvie and how neither of us liked it there. Dad was trying to convince Granny to take us in. She maintained that she just couldn’t do it, she could barely afford to support herself, much less two growing boys. Finally Bro broke down, a little tear streaked down his cheek, and he said with a quivering voice, “But Grandma, I wanna come live with you.” Granny said her heart melted at that moment, and she decided to let us stay with her.
After that day, Dad never had to deal with the responsibility of having children again.
We moved in to Granny’s home on Cherokee Trace in a small Native American-themed subdivision just behind our tiny Shopping Mall. It was a small house, but it had a sizable yard, and plenty of room for outdoor activities. Lengthy discussions between the two Grandmas yielded the decision for us to attend a local private school rather than public, with the final choice being settled upon as Saint Academy. And so, my fate was further sealed.
We got a Super Nintendo Entertainment System shortly after moving in with Granny, with two of our first games being Super Mario World and The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. I also bought a Genesis for myself awhile later, so I could have uncensored Mortal Kombat as well as the speed of the Sonic games. I continued to fire up the NES as well, most notably for Dragon Warrior IV which was an excellent game. Most of these I played on rental, back then Video Palace (over by Food Lion) had $1 for one night rentals on all video games, so if you were pretty dedicated you could wrap up a game in a week or two and save a boatload as compared to actually buying a game.
I remember renting games was always a hassle because Granny hated to go across the State Highway, which was a major thoroughfare for our rural town. I say rural, but it was actually quite sizeable. She used to bitch us out if we asked her to take us over to Video Palace to pick up or return a game. Her favorite grocery store was Food Lion, however (until the meat-handling scandal hit), so we would sometimes get opportunities for rentals after she was finished shopping.
I remember a funny thing about that Food Lion. One time I went there with Granny for a grocery shopping trip and I noticed a bunch of entry slips for a drawing. Second prize was a basketball goal, and first prize was a trip to the SEC Basketball Tournament in Lexington. I started filling out entries as soon as I saw the second prize and I didn’t stop until Grandma left the grocery store. Several weeks later, I got a letter from some kind of lawyer notifying me that I had won a trip to the SEC Tournament with expenses paid at a flashy hotel. I’ll tell you more about that trip at a later date.
Granny introduced me to the Dairy Queen Blizzard while I lived with her. One day she came in with three Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup Blizzards and asked us if we had ever had one. “No,” we said, intrigued. “Well, I got one for you guys, I think you’ll love it,” and indeed we did.
Granny also strictly limited the amount of pop I was allowed to drink. Two 16 oz. glasses a day, no more. I remember I used to wake up in the morning and think to myself “Oh boy! I’ve got two pops left I can drink!” I was so easily amused, and I still am to this day.
My Aunt lived with us for a little while, too. I remember she used to work at our local Video Arcade located in the Mall. She said people were always trying to scam her out of quarters by claiming they gave her more money than they actually did. Which reminds me, the early 90’s was really a great time for Arcade Games. Almost the height of pixel art, if you ask me. I used to spend as much money as I could get my hands on in that arcade, usually a dollar here or there given to me by one of my Grannys.
Dad started out by leaving us alone with Granny, but when his second marriage didn’t work out, he moved in with us, too, and he became . . . . rather slovenly. He eventually fell in an older woman and ended up marrying her.
Our time at Cherokee Trace ended when Granny had her own house built a little further out of town, on Orchid Road. It was a nice, undeveloped area back when she built it, although a massive bypass goes right behind the property now. We moved from Cherokee Trace into an ultra shitty temporary rental house on Randall Street, and it is that time I will talk about in my next entry. Adios!