You Deserve the Long Red Spoon

Photo of Dairy Queen marketing poster

By Mike Johnson

Yesterday, eating a banana split at Dairy Queen, it occurred to me that I should do this more often.
Anything at Dairy Queen is a decadent sweet.
But when you’re holding that long red spoon, you know you’re digging into a royal treat.

As a kid, I’d bike with my buddy five miles to our closest Dairy Queen.
This was in a western suburb of Minneapolis, Dairy Queen’s international headquarters.
We’d had the cosmic foresight – or divine blessing -- to grow up in the home base of Target, Perkins, General Mills, Nut Goodie and Dairy Queen.

Anyway, biking to Dairy Queen, with paper route money in our pockets, peddling our Schwinn Varsities, on a warm July morning, was as free as we’ve ever felt.
We’d often tie a Zebco fishing pole and tackle box to the bike frame.
Just another mile past Dairy Queen was Gray’s Bay on Lake Minnetonka.

The bait shop there was a living museum of every type of worm, minnow, lure, spinnerbait and bobber.
We’d stare enraptured at a 3-foot section for 15 solid minutes and still not take it all in.
The place smelled like lake and fish.
It made their candy bars taste better.

We’d fish for sunnies off the bridge, dreaming of owning one of the humble lakeshore homes surrounding the cove.
The bait shop was long ago scraped away and is now a public boat ramp.
The humble homes disappeared too, replaced by multi-million dollar mansions.
The bay is still there, but now I’m the one who’s gray.

Funny where a long red spoon takes you.

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