Page 287 - Wordsmith A Guide to College Writing

life-size figures are nostalgic reminders of an earlier

era.

As I enter the doorway, I step into a setting from the

past. The sawdust-covered floor leads to an old-

fashioned glass-topped counter. On the counter, beside a

gallon jar of pickled pig’s feet, sits an empty bottle

labeled “Sun-Drop Golden Cola—As Refreshing as a Cup of
Coffee.” Behind the glass are old-fashioned bottles of

White Rain shampoo and a half-filled box of individually

wrapped Moon Pies. A card offers “Mystery Edge Razor

Blades, 4 blades 10¢.” To the left of the counter, a

sawdust trail leads to a large yellow cooler emblazoned
with the words “Royal Crown Cola” in red. Above the

cooler, a rectangular metal sign advertises “Viceroy

Filter Tip Cigarettes—Filtered Smoke with the Finest

Flavor.” Beside the cooler sits a jukebox.

The old-fashioned jukebox pulses with light and music,

taking me back to the sixties. I walk toward it, passing

a tall thin figure whose upraised fingers, the color of

mahogany, look as though they are holding an invisible

harmonica. As I move closer, I can make out the name
“Wurlitzer Zodiac” on the front of the jukebox. I look

at the selections. If I had a quarter, I could hear

“Jimmy Mack” by Martha and the Vandellas, “Mercy, Mercy

Me” by Marvin Gaye, or Aretha Franklin’s “Respect.” A

museum employee walks by, opens the jukebox, and presses