The Five-and-Dime

I write more than just this one blog, I have a blog called: http://doireallywanttoincreasemyvocabulary.blogspot.com/
It is a much easier blog to write; therefore I post more often to it. Tonight when I was selecting a word for the vocabulary blog I came across the word “five-and-dime.” Selecting that as my word for today reminded me that I have long wanted to write something about the dime store my sister, brothers, and I frequented as children when visiting my grandparent’s house in Tyler, Texas. The store was called Perry’s and it was on the block behind my grandparent’s home. We walked out of their back door (slamming the screen door), across the Saint Augustine grass-covered back yard, through the creosote alley, alongside a neighbor’s garage, crossing a street and finally arriving at the magical five-and-dime store. We were really young when allowed to make the trek alone – something my adult mind has a hard time accepting, but it was one of the highlights of visiting our east Texas grandparents.

As soon as we arrived at our ancestral home we began begging our parents and/or grandparents for money to go to Perry’s. As soon as the car was unloaded and Daddy had poured himself a highball he would give us his pocket change (usually supplemented with coins from my MaMaw’s coin purse) and send us on our way to the magical emporium known as the “10-cent-store.” Even in the 1960s I doubt there was much we could purchase for a dime, but we perused the aisles like any discriminating shopper, trying to make the most of our money.

I can vividly recall some of the purchases made at Perry’s. There were wooden paddle-ball racquets with elastic strings which usually broke before I could get the rhythm of the game, balsa wood airplanes, plastic faux Barbie dolls, and sets of marbles and jacks. My siblings and I horded our new toys and plotted how to trade with each other as soon as the novelty wore off (or as soon as we broke ours).

All too soon I graduated to Cutex nail polish and Tangee orange lipstick. It wasn’t long before the allure of the Perry’s five-and-dime wore off. I was too sophisticated at thirteen to beg my parents for pocket change to buy cheap goods from the dime store.

How I miss those simple days. How I long to go back to Perry’s and browse the aisles for little treats. It was such a small, simple pleasure, but one that doesn’t exist anymore. Oh, sure, I might get a small thrill when I find a really interesting item at the Dollar Store, but nothing can compare to the childhood pleasure of selecting my own merchandise and spending money without adult supervision that I felt on those long ago days at Perry’s.

I feel sorry for the children who will never know that feeling, the feeling of being a bona fide consumer. I don’t think the Mega-Store, Wal-Mart experience can bring the same exhilaration. There are no longer store clerks willing to wait on a child with only a quarter to spend, no longer store clerks willing to make a child’s solo shopping experience one they will recall forty years later with such nostalgia.

Thank you Perry’s for giving me such grand memories and thank you Daddy for giving me your pocket change.