watermelon gardens

when i was a child, visiting my grandparents in dallas in the summertime, there were places called watermelon gardens all over town, especially in east dallas. they were little out of doors places with redwood picnic tables (sometimes redwood, anyway) and a tent or shed under which a man would cut large slices of watermelon at a fairly cheap price, perhaps, 50 cents.

one time i was with grandmother and granddaddy and uncle george and aunt lottie, waiting in line to get some watermelon. grandmother said to me, you can eat part of mine, gerry. no, i replied (i was maybe five years old), i want my own piece. uncle george thought that pretty amazing, that i spoke up for myself like that. i got "my own piece" that day, and try to now every chance i can.

watermelon gardens are a thing of the past, but i think of them when i am in houston in the summer, and there are outdoor beer gardens scattered around town. it's not exactly the same thing, but it is somewhat similar.

watermelon
it makes my mouth water

also, when i was still quite young, maybe 10, we joined a fashionable country club in our part of town. i was often alone at the country club, and very friendly with a young woman named mary who was the club secretary. sometimes we would eat lunch together in the elaborate dining room. i would order a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and maybe a chocolate malt. in those days i could just sign a ticket at the table for whatever i wanted. but i sort of balked at the price of a peanut butter sandwich, and complained to mary. she told me my parents were paying for the atmosphere; and when i questioned that, she just told me to ask my parents.

sometimes i would order a dish of watermelon sherbert as well.

there was a teenage room at the club also, the bonton room. i often sat in there and played gin rummy with the lady attendant who sometimes had time on her hands. i was just starting to learn to dance back then (later i became an instructor), and sometimes i would dance alone to the juke box, a simple jitterbug or cha-cha. those were good times for me. i was often alone, but rarely lonely. i knew how to entertain myself.

another note on watermelon: additions to an old joke...one time andrew mellon, the pittsburg steel magnate and former secretary of the treasury, was approached by his daughter who told him that she was going to get married. honey, do, he replied, because you can't elope. he sometimes called her "daughter mellon".