Memoirous

I grew up solidly middleclass. My family had a membership to the Four Seasons Pool Club in Washington Township in Ohio. From Memorial Day until Labor Day we could walk right in and show our card. There were summers of lessons, of pool birthday parties, of hanging out with friends. The pool also had non-swimming activities like a night where they showed old movies. I still remember how big the June bugs looked amplified as they passed between the lens of the projector and the screen, and how the dust motes caught in that bright shaft of light danced and twinkled like little stars. I’m embarrassed to admit it though, but my favorite thing was the snack bar. The different names of the novelty ice creams conjured up whole stories inside my head. There were the Rocket Pops in red, white, and blue and the orange push-ups, glorified sherbet but with a creamy goodness, also called Dreamsicles. There was the Drum Stick and I think something called a Fred Flintstone bar. The ice cream sandw...