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Similarly, she had no objection to Christmas. That holiday tells us to rejoice and be merry, not to weep and repent.
The sign, of course, is just a sign of the times. Speaking to one's principles is important and just might go a long way to finding our way back to more sensible times the Free Market Way instead of force from a mob with a minority view on things.
In one of the last ones I bought in the late 60s, Mad was making fun of radical left college students.
Still etched in my memory is the drawing of an angry-faced pretty young lady pounding away on the typewriter of a student newspaper..
The lampooning from mad during those days was
Nothing was off limits and no political agenda that I recall.
During these visits we'd take in extra sights like a world's fair in New York, the Statue of Liberty, museums, Cape Cod.
Sometimes we'd only go to places like Washington DC, Miami and in one trip toured Silver Springs, St. Augustine and an alligator farm in north Florida.
Now that I've beaten around the bush, there was one thing constant, Dad always wanted to go to a Howard Johnson's Motor Lodge, which of course included a Howard Johnson's Restaurant.
After about five years of this, Mom got tired of always going to Howard Johnson's and started to complain about it. So Dad was gradually being weened off the Howard Johnson's mystique.
About this time I bought a Mad Magazine. In it there was a two-page comic about a car traveling family with a father, who with hypnotized looking eyes kept repeating "Howard Johnson's, Howard Johnson's, Howard Johnson's~"
Don't recall anything else about that cartoon. I handed it to my Dad while he was reading the newspaper and walked off. I retrieved the magazine later from the lamp table beside Dad's favorite chair.
We never went to another Howard Johnson's.
In 1925, he bought a small soda shop in the Wollaston neighborhood of Quincy, Massachusetts. He enhanced the quality of the ice cream by buying a recipe from a pushcart vendor for $300. It doubled the butterfat of the product and used only natural flavorings. He used hand-cranked makers in his basement and by 1928 was grossing about $240,000 from ice cream sold in the store and nearby beaches.[2]
Johnson expanded operations by opening more stores and started selling food items such as hamburgers and frankfurters at his original store. In 1929, he opened a second restaurant in Quincy. This sit-down outlet had a broader menu and laid the groundwork for future expansion.
In 1935, Howard Johnson teamed up with a local businessman, Reginald Sprague, and created the first modern restaurant franchise. The idea was new in that day: let an operator use the name, food, supplies, and logo, in exchange for a fee. The business of "HoJo" chain restaurants rapidly expanded and he also entered the lodging industry.
Howard Johnson had his two children also begin working in the business. His son Howard Brennan Johnson and daughter Dorothy Johnson beamed down together from highway billboards proclaiming that "We love our daddy's ice cream" at the time when they were six and eight years old respectively.[3]
Later life Edit
Johnson was married four times, siring at least two children. He had a 60-foot (18 m) yacht and collected paintings. His hobby was "to talk and eat food." His favorite food was ice cream, which he stoutly — he was 205 pounds (93 kg) — maintained was "not fattening." He ate at least a cone a day, and he kept 10 distinct flavors in the freezers of his seven-room Manhattan penthouse and at his home in Milton, Massachusetts.[4]
Johnson retired in 1959, leaving the company to his son, Howard Brennan ("Bud") Johnson. The older Johnson continued to monitor his restaurants for cleanliness and proper food preparation. He would be chauffeured in a black Cadillac bearing the license plate HJ-28 (his initials and 28 ice cream flavors) while performing unannounced inspections of the restaurants.[4]
If a snowflake saw it, he'd probably weep while running off to a safe zone to meditate with his coloring books.
Now there were signs that wound up offending me when I walked off a hot summer street in St. Petersburg, FL,into a Howard Johnson's Restaurant way back during the mid-60s.
The signs photogenically advertised a menu of about 20 maybe more different wonderful looking ice cream flavors that made me drool.
Me dino asked for about the most exotically tasty one on the wall, whatever that was.
A slightly younger than me kid behind the counter with a bored blank face advised that they only served vanilla, chocolate and strawberry.
I repeated what the kid said with shocked dismay.
The kid only stared back with a bleak uncaring expression.
I remember choosing strawberry because 1. I really wanted something cold and wet in my mouth and 2. strawberry was as exotic as Howard Johnson's could get while dying out as a chain.
I am not a starbucks fan...can't stand the coffee but I would appreciate a warning sign about their chosen anticultural view...I would be happy to go across the street to DD's.