When I was a child living in Ohio we would sometimes vacation in Florida to visit grandparents, DisneyWorld, the beach and sometimes all three. The trip was always down Interstate 75 and I loved to watch the scenery roll by as we had no tablets or electronic devices to hold our attention. Not because I was deprived, but because they had not yet been invented. One place we often stopped at was a gas station/souvenir shop called Plantation House in southern Georgia.
During my current trip to Florida and back to celebrate my mom’s birthday I was alone on my Can-Am Spyder and I cruise pretty fast and hard. I keep an eye on my fuel supply and when the light indicates I am dipping into my reserve tank I pull off at the next exit and fill up. So here I was, cruising down I-75, the light goes on and I pull off to find…
Plantation House. Now several decades older and looking a bit weather battered and beaten up but still operating (much like me). I just had to get a pecan roll and divinity and a souvenir. Turns out that the gas pumps had never been changed from my youth, did not have the ubiquitous credit card device and only sold regular gas. Josephine (pictured) just rolled her eyes at my nostalgia and we moved on to find an up-to-date service station with the premium grade she requires. Since she was dismissive about my memories so I kept the pecan roll and divinity for myself. Delicious.
NEXT: Sorry Porky, but delicious